BX 



4-700 

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A 




•CCONO OOPY, 




MAY 18 1899 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 

ShelL.S.X..4'7oO 

:e^/73 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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St. Odile praising God. 



THE 



STORY 



OF 



SAINT Or^ILE, 

THE 

PEARL OF ALSACE. 

BY 

Rev. Francis X. McGowan, O. S. A. 



In portum religionis cunctis semper fidissimum. 

(S. Vine. Lerin.) 



JOHN J. McVEY, 

Philadelphia, Pa. 

1899. 



M 




Osrfz 



31246 

Copyright, 1899, 
JOHN J. McVEY. 







To THE 

(Refigieu0e0 



OF 

Our Young Country 

In Memory of 

Their Many Kappy Years 

Of Love and Labor 

In the Service of the Divine Master, 

This Little Book 

Is Respectfully In^sCRIbed. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAP. PAGE 

I. Odile's Birth and Her Father's Anger . . 9 

II. Odile's Childhood .20 

III. The Miracle at Odile's Baptism .... 32 

IV. The Duke of Suabia, Odile's Suitor ... 45 
V. Adalric's Grief and His Quest for Odile. 62 

VI. Odile Becomes Abbess of Hohenburg . . 78 
VII. The Ancient Monastic Life. A Closing 

Episode 94 

VIII. Conclusion 117 



PREKACE. 

The history of the early Saints has always 
a strange fascination for Catholic readers. 
There is so much fact in the folk-lore from 
which their lives have been evolved that it 
generally bears on its face the stamp of credi- 
bility. The legends concerning the deeds and 
virtues of the saints of the remote past have 
historical certainty as a basis, and the imag- 
ination of the simple-minded people has not 
detracted from this truth, but rather envel- 
oped it with a poetic charm, which is appre- 
ciated by all historical students. 

The facts, related in this history, but clothed 
in narrative garb, have been given as tradi- 
tionally certain by many French and Ger- 
man writers. The legend has varied some- 
what, although the events in the main are 
quite similar. One version relates the sad 
death of Hugh, Odile's brother, which was 
inflicted by his father's hand, for having 
(7) 



8 PREFACE. 

dared to bring the exiled sister back to her 
legitimate home. It is quoted from Jacck 
and other authors in Digby's Mores Catholici 
(Vol. IV. ch. V.) 

We have followed a less tragic account, 
which appears to be more probable. 

A chapter on the abbeys and nuns of the 
Middle Ages has been added to the story, 
which will well help to remove the false 
impressions given by ignorant, malicious or 
prejudiced writers on this theme of mediaeval 
days. We are confident that its perusal will 
be attended with both pleasure and profit. 

The French spelling of the Saint's name 
is retained : Odilc, though it is often written 
Odilia and Otliilia, The same may be said 
of the name of the castle w hich became Odile's 
abbey : Hohenbtirg, sometimes written Hoem- 
borch. The cheerful hope is entertained that 
this little book may serve to give the reader 
some insight not only into the heroic life of 
Alsace's Patroness, but also into the mediae- 
val period with its wonderful movements. 
HoosicK Falls, N, Y. 



THE STORY OF ST. ODILR. 

^'THE PEARL OF ALSACE." 



CHAPTER I. 

odile's birth and her father's anger. 

On the highest point of '* the blue Alsatian 
mountains," there stood away back in the 
Vllth century the stately castle of Hohen- 
burg, a strongly-fortified place, whose history 
is wrapped up in the various religious and 
political events of those early days. At the 
time of which we write, the lord of the domain 
was Adalric, whose possessions were even 
more extensive than those of his fathers. 
One evening he sat pondering deeply some 
unusual occurrence that had forced him into 
retirement, and apparently, as he leaned upon 
the table of the window, he was looking at 
the sky which was begemmed with myriad 
(9) 



lO ST. ODILE. 

shining stars. It was not a strange thing to 
see any one gazing, as it were, in ecstacy on 
the splendid landscape which unfolded before 
the windows of the old donjon. The castle 
of Hohenburg, as haughty as the Dukes of 
Alsace who built it, guarded with jealous 
independence the loftiest summit that could 
be descried for miles around in the neighbor- 
ing country. The sinuous mountain-sides 
were covered with large sombre fir-trees, a 
species of tree found in the Vosges chain, as 
well as in the immense German forest, to 
which it has given, on account of its color, 
the name of the Black Foi'est. When night 
has spread its shadows over the wearied earth, 
the moon's mysterious rays play strangely 
among the foliage of the trees and lend to 
them fantastic shapes. Assuredly, after en- 
joying the light and heat of the sun, we can- 
not help admiring the beauty and soft bril- 
liance of the *' lamp of Almighty God," for it 
gladdens the heart of the fatigued woodman 
who traverses these mountain-woods at a late 
hour, through which he could not otherwise 



ODILES BIRTH. II 

find his way, but would have to grope through 
gloom among huge rocks and dangerous 
steeps. 

Down below in the valley, the flickering 
fires glow, like lights in a ship's rigging, as if 
placed there to guide the belated traveler. 
Around the hearth the members of the family 
have gathered after the day's toil, and the 
eldest one among them recounts some famous 
tale, graven long since on memory's tablets, 
with such exactitude that the story varies 
only in form and not in substance. Yet, in- 
comprehensible thing ! this oft-repeated folk- 
lore appears to have for each listener the 
charm of novelty. They wait thus, while the 
talk is progressing, for the parish-bell to ring 
out the curfew. The curfew-bell notified these 
good peasants that it was time for prayer, and 
they then gave thanks to God for the bless- 
ings of the day; just as at eventide, Adam 
in the terrestrial paradise held sweet converse 
with his Maker-, so these pious Alsatians in 
their isolated country elevated their souls to 
God and received in exchange for their fer- 



12 ST. ODILE. 

vor and simplicity the peace promised unto 
all men of good-will. 

They asked of God their daily bread, first 
the bread of the soul and after the bread of 
the body. They thus drew down the dews 
of heaven on their fine vineyards and the 
harvests of their productive soil ; they knew 
but little else than their prayers and the 
directing of their ploughs, but there is no 
need of much science to understand the 
Apostle's words: / have planted, Apollo 
watered, but God gave the increase.^ In- 
crease and benediction were in fact heaven's 
answer to this privileged land. The oidium, 
phylloxera, and insects fatal to nature's pro- 
ducts were not known in the Vllth century. 
During this epoch in the world's history, the 
two great secular classes, the Knights and 
the people, lived, as far as it was possible 
for human nature, strictly in accordance with 
the demands of religion, were esteemed there- 
fore all as of high lineage and as sons of God, 
who at each recurring Eastertide and on chim- 

* I Cor. iii. 6. 



ODILE'S BIRTH. I 3 

ing festival received the Lord's Body and the 
Blood of their Saviour coursed through their 
veins. 

But let us resume our story. Sir Adalric 
sat in this tower musing at the stars. I doubt, 
however, if it were the stars that captivated 
his soul at this m,oment or if his eyes were 
strained to survey the lay of his estates far 
ofif in the distance. Such a temptation might 
indeed come to him naturally, for Providence 
had bestowed on him an inheritance exceed- 
ingly large; his lands rich and valuable 
stretched aw^ay to the borders of the Rhine, 
which could be reached only after many 
hours of rapid travel. The Rhine at that 
period rolled on ''tranquil and proud of the 
progress of its waters," reflecting on its 
majestic bosom all the colors of the firma- 
ment and proclaiming in unison with nature 
the power and grandeur of God, '' who chang- 
eth the heavens as we change a vesture." 

The Lord Adalric could scarcely think of 
all these things. He appeared in fact to be 
in rather bad humor. One might take a 



14 ST. ODILE. 

thousand chances and never guess what was 
the cause of his discontent. Had his troops 
received some check in war? Had his fine 
health received a shock? Was his honor 
compromised in some affair? None of these 
had occurred to raise his wrath. The Duke 
Adalric of Hohenburg had ascertained a few 
hours before that he was the father of a pretty 
little daughter, and that was the whole cause 
of his anger. 

Adalric, as we have said, was a powerful 
lord, but it seems as if greatness does not 
always bring happiness, for had the Duke 
been only a poor serf, he would have wel- 
comed a daughter as warmly as a son ; but 
when a man counts among his ancestors 
Archambaud, the Mayor of the Palace under 
Clovis II., and Sigismund, King of Burgundy ; 
when he has for a wife Bereswinde, the niece 
of Leger, Bishop of Autun, he has an ambi- 
tion to have a son who will perpetuate his 
noble name and race. Adalric did not think 
that male-heirs might come later on, that a 
gentle little daughter was not to be despised ; 



odile's birth. 15 

he refused curtly to see the child that Beres- 
winde had brought into the world, and, 
though a professed Christian, he behaved 
as finely as a barbarian or a pagan. The 
new-born child was not even baptized. But 
that we may not paint Adalric in too dark 
colors, we must admit that in the early ages 
of the Church, parents often waited until 
their children had attained to the age of 
reason before the regenerating sacrament 
was administered, in order to give them the 
means of understanding the advantages of 
this holy rite and the serious obligations 
which it imposes. 

To crown with bitterness the event of the 
child's birth, she was born blind. Ah ! Beres- 
winde only loved the little one all the more 
on this account, because she had fallen from 
the heart of God into her bosom. Beres- 
winde possessed in a high degree the deli- 
cacy of mothers, who endeavor to make up 
by increase of love for what is deficient in 
the fruit of their womb. 

*' Dear husband," she said repeatedly to 



1 6 ST. ODILE. 

Adalric, '' consent to see our Odile. If you 
knew what grace is already in her smile, as 
she extends her little arms to me for a caress 
and her sightless eyes seem to speak, I am 
sure you would be delighted and love her as 
soon as you saw her." Adalric, however, 
■replied always by knitting his eyebrows and 
scowling; Bereswinde did not dare say any- 
thing further. But a sorer trial awaited the 
duchess. God is accustomed, so some one 
has written, to make His elect souls pass 
through the crucible of sorrow, as we make 
iron pass through the fire to purify it. 

The child grew up happily under her 
mother's care, having no suspicion that any- 
body, not certainly her father, bore animosity 
towards her. The poor afflicted one did not 
yet comprehend her pitiable condition, and 
hence had no feeling of disappointment on 
that score. Bereswinde brought her often 
into the gardens adjoining the castle, and she 
played and enjoyed herself with the tradi- 
tional storks, which, finding on earth a soul 
as white as their wings, would descend to her 



odile's birth. 17 

for a while, to remount again and soar like 
sheets of gold in the splendor of the noon- 
day*s sun. 

One fine day, Adalric sent word to his 
wife that he had some important intelligence 
to communicate to her, and if she wished to 
hear it, he would speak to her immediately. 
He came to Bereswinde's apartment with 
sombre look, and perceiving Odile playing 
in a corner, he gave orders that she be re- 
moved at once ; his antipathy was so ex- 
treme that he did not want to lay eyes on 
the innocent child. After this, he sat down 
near Bereswinde and conversed briefly with 
her : '* Noble woman, I know that I am about 
to make your heart bleed, and I ask pardon 
beforehand, but you are aware of the oath 
which I have sworn never to look on my 
daughter. In the meantime, she has grown 
up and roams at leisure in all parts and ap- 
purtenances of the castle. If I were to shut 
her up in some retired room where I would 
not see her, the child might die for want of 
space and air. The wisest thing to do, con- 
2 



I 8 ST. ODILE. 

sidering the circumstances, is to separate her 
from the household. Give her in charge to 
some one of your attendants who will rear her 
as you wish, but let her be removed to some 
other place as early as possible." Bereswinde 
became pale at once, besought her lord to 
reflect on his plan, but obtained nothing 
favorable from him. The Duke seemed to 
possess a heart that was plated with steel, and 
that Vv/as better endowed with strength than 
tenderness. He who never faltered in any 
point of honor or loyalty, and who was recog- 
nized as brave as a lion, was singularly de- 
ficient in paternal sentiment, at least for the 
nonce, for we shall see in the sequel that God 
did not permit him to keep such a harsh soul. 
The Duchess of Alsace, unable to change 
her husband's determination, sought at least 
to alleviate, as much as possible, the lot of 
the child w^ho was to be taken from her. She 
selected a pious and affectionate woman who 
had been attached to her service for a long 
time. '' Berthilda," she said to her, '* I in- 
trust to you a soul which is as dear to me as 



odile's birth. 19 

my own. God is my witness that after Him 
I love nothing more than my daughter; but 
He who gave the Virgin Mary strength to 
stand at the footside of the cross, when her 
only Son was dying, will give me also forti- 
tude to bear my sufferings. Berthilda, this 
is now the hour to glorify God by our pa- 
tience." Berthilda wept, and for a long time 
her tears mingled with those of the afflicted 
mother. She then took her precious charge 
and wrapped it carefully in her cloak. The 
child slept smnling with the angels ; Beres- 
winde impressed a last kiss on her lips, and 
mastering her grief, she left her servant 
woman to depart quickly with her light bur- 
den. As for herself, poor mother, she hastened 
to her oratory, and falling on her knees, al- 
lowed no other word to arise from her heart 
to her lips save that of holy Job, the great 
sufferer mentioned in Sacred Scripture : '' The 
Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; 
as it hath pleased the Lord, so is it done : 
Blessed be the Name of the Lord." * 

* Job i. 21. 



CHAPTER IT. 

odile's childhood. 

Look at Bcrthilda descending the Hohen- 
burg, accompanied not alone by the child, 
but also by a happy escort of angels, who 
have the pleasurable honor of protecting the 
daughter of the House of Alsace on her road 
to exile and bearing company to their future 
little sister. They followed the moss-covered 
paths, winging their flight under the branches 
of the aged fir-trees, and at length they 
reached the base of the mountain. There 
two horses, harnessed and saddled, pawed the 
earth with impatience, waiting for the signal 
to depart. In those primitive days women 
traveled on horseback, and scarcely ever 
made use of carriages. Berthilda, holding 
Odile w^ith the utmost care in her arms, 
mounted one of the saddled beasts, and a 
young peasant jumped on the other. During 
the progress of the journey they chatted 

(20) 




' Look at Berthilda descending the Hohenburg, accompanied not 
alone by the child, but also by a happy escort of angels. ' ' 



J 



ODILE S CHILDHOOD. 21 

pleasantly, having many things to say to each 
other; for the hoy was Berthilda's youngest 
brother and she had not seen him for a num- 
ber of years, but he was now returning to his 
aged father, whose roof was to shelter the 
daughter of his master. His name was 
Peter, and he had been informed by a mes- 
senger from the Duchess to meet Berthilda 
just at that spot. 

*'Ah!" said Peter, smiling at his ease, 
'' what good fortune for the house ! Is not this 
little princess our providence? Surely Duke 
Adalric will not only not allow her to want 
for anything, but he will also acknowledge 
generously the hospitality which we give his 
daughter. Now, sister, tell me how it is that 
the heiress of the Dukes of Alsace is thus 
handed over to the care of poor vassals ? She 
is, nevertheless, as lovely as an angel of the 
good God, this darling little creature ! There 
is some mystery beneath it." 

**Alas!" Berthilda answered sighing, **you 
are not ignorant, Peter, that my noble mas- 
ters have for a long time asked of the Lord 



22 ST. ODILE. 

a child that would continue their family to 
posterity. Years passed and Bereswinde did 
not know the joys of maternity. Adalric v/as 
as gloomy as the skies of Hchenburg, when 
the storm-clouds brood on its sides. God at 
length listened to their sighings ; the Duchess 
became a mother, but the little Odile did not 
realize the dreams of Adalric, who, seeing 
himself frustrated in his hopes, conceived a 
profound dislike for her. He wanted never 
to lay eyes on his daughter, whose blindness 
was a bitter stroke to him ; and now, to be rid 
of her presence in the castle, he banishes her 
forever from it.'' 

Berthilda spoke for a long time, and was 
inexhaustible on the subject of Bereswinde's 
goodness of heart and the budding graces of 
Odile, whom she regarded almost with devo- 
tion, as if her faith gave her an intuition into 
God's designs relative to the child's future. 
The horses also neighed with unusual hearti- 
ness as they bounded over the plain ; one 
would have said that they were conscious 
they carried, not like the ancient boatman 



ODILE S CHILDHOOD. 23 

the fortunes of Caesar, but the fate of Alsace 
and Heaven's sweetest benediction to this 
land so often blessed. I do not know if I 
were deceived, but it seems to me that, in 
the passage of the little caravan, the flowers 
even diffused a sweeter odor, the breeze was 
more delicately scented, and the sun more 
radiant. It was nature's hymn of thanks- 
giving to the Lord of all for this especial 
favor vouchsafed Alsace. The bird chanted 
it after its own manner, and the humble violet 
had its own note ; but the warbling of the one 
could not equal the singing of Odile's heart, 
which ravished the heart of God as she mur- 
mured her childish prayer, nor the perfume 
of the other equal that which issued from the 
pure and sweet soul of the little exile. 

After traveling leisurely, they arrived at 
the cottage. It was a decent little house, 
situated pleasantly beside a fresh flowing 
brook. The walls were covered with ivy, 
which always gave them a cheerful look, and 
the garden was famous in all that section of 
country for the beauty of its flowers ; the 



24 ST. ODILE. 

rose and lily grew there as in the Promised 
Land. Jesus, who was said by the Jews to 
be of Nazareth, the city of flower's, had pre- 
pared for the young Saint a place equally 
perfumed. Yet the Master did not fail also 
to lay thorns in the way of His servant, with- 
out which He could not share with her the 
life which He had appointed for her on 
earth. Odile's hostess, the good mother 
Katharine, loved her exceedingly, as also 
Berthilda and every one in the house. In- 
deed, for this poor little heart there were 
needed a tenderness still more profound, and 
that natural asylum which God vouchsafes 
children when He places them under the pro- 
tecting aegis of parental love. Odile grew 
up, and soon understood that this pleasant 
home was only her borrowed abode. She 
was blind, and was unable to feel the pres- 
ence, as formerly, of the lofty towers of 
Hohenburg and their white storks, but it ap- 
peared as if she had some recollection of 
them, although she was at that time very 
young. She loved to run, like a gazelle, 



\\ 



ODILE'S CHILDHOOD. 25 

clasping the hand of an attendant, over the 
heath of the neighboring wood, and to 
mingle her voice with that of the linnet, yet 
she was often seen suspending her joyous 
songs and sitting pensively on some mossy 
rock. Her blindness prevented her from using 
the spinning-wheel, which, at that period was 
not despised by the greatest ladies, and from 
joining in the play of other children, but she 
willingly assisted Berthilda when the latter 
dispensed alms or help to the needy. She 
forgot herself in church, and sometimes 
night surprised her without her heeding it; 
mother Katharine had to go often and take 
her from God, and in the performance of this 
task the good dame grumbled somewhat 
through anxiety, but not exceedingly. 

Bereswinde, being unable to go whither her 
heart called her, sent at least from time to 
time to inquire for her beloved daughter. 
The messenger always brought at the same 
time from the Duke and Duchess, besides ex- 
emption from service, a goodly sum of money 
to the family. One day the varlet found only 



26 ST. ODILE. 

Odile at the cottage ; she recognized him by 
his voice, and blushed at once with sadness 
and pleasure. .''What news?" she asked, 
bringing her hand to her heart which beat 
quickly. '' The noble Duchess has brought 
into the world a son to whom has been given 
the name of Hugh." '' Then," returned Odile, 
clapping her hands and leaping for joy, '' my 
father ought to be quite satisfied, and will, no 
doubt, not retain his bitterness towards me." 
The messenger did not dare reply to this. 
He came and went every year. 

Once he came with an order from the 
Duchess, informing Berthilda that she was to 
be separated from her young mistress and 
that she was to place Odile in the hands of 
the Abbess of Jaume, who was Bereswinde's 
ow^n aunt. At the abbey, Odile would re- 
ceive an education befitting her rank and 
would be prepared for holy baptism, which 
Sacrament she had not yet received. Beres- 
winde at the same time loaded Berthilda with 
her thanks and numerous presents. 

There was exceeding regret among the 



odile's childhood. 27 

good peasant-folk, but they were compelled 
to obey. Odile felt as pained as they did, 
and she took refuge in the church as was her 
custom. One thought, meanwhile, consoled 
her. In the abbey she would obtain at last 
the privilege of baptism, which had not yet 
been conferred upon her, although she was 
nearly twelve years of age. She longed for 
the regenerating water as the thirsty stag 
pants for the living waters, but for many a 
long day she had been Christian at heart and 
in desire. Speedy preparations for departure 
were made, and Berthilda was to accompany 
the young girl. The aged Katharine filled 
their hamper with provisions, and particu- 
larly filled their minds with considerable ad- 
vice for the journey. Odile threw herself 
into the old woman's arms, and she also wept 
when leaving her venerable foster-father and 
Peter, who was wont to play and romp with 
her. Then they started on their journey. 
It consumed several days of traveling to reach 
Jaume ; many delays were made so that the 
little princess might not suffer from fatigue. 



28 ST. ODILE. 

The latter endeavored to dispel the weariness 
of the way, and put many questions to her 
guide about the country which they traversed. 
'' Dear child," said Berthilda to her, '' hitherto 
you have seen by my eyes ; who will now 
see for you ?" *' God will provide," the child 
answered with her amiable smile. 

At last the abbey of Jaume was reached, 
and Odile's grandaunt, the virtuous Abbess 
Agnes, having been notified of her niece's 
arrival, hastened to meet her. *' May God 
be blessed !" she exclaimed, covering Odile 
with caresses. " It seems to me," she added 
in a low voice to Berthilda, *' that I could now 
chant my Nunc Dimittis and that this house 
has received salvation from the Lord." 

Odile was soon delighted with the monas- 
tery. The religieuses gathered around her, 
and recognizing her modesty and simplicity, 
which were united to an evenness and artless- 
ness of manner, so indicative of the innocent 
child, they began to love her almost immed- 
iately. Her heart failed when she had to 
separate from the afTectionate Berthilda. 



ODILE^S CHILDHOOD. 29 

''Ah! how good it will be," she said, ''for 
us to see each other in heaven ; then we shall 
be sure that nevermore will we be separated, 
but I promise in this world not to forget 
you." And as she could not give this faith- 
ful friend a part of her soul, she cut ofif a 
lock of her hair, beautiful blonde tresses, and 
bestowed it on her second mother as a pledge 
of her great affection. 

The Abbess was eager to testify her solici- 
tude, and she cared for this child as for a 
delicate plant that needed a heavenly atmo- 
sphere in which to grow and flourish, and we 
can easily perceive the design of a merciful 
Providence in transplanting it to " the en- 
closed garden" of the monastery. But it 
was the sacred water of Baptism which this 
chosen flower now desired so much, and as 
the flower pines and withers on account of 
drought, so Odile's health was in jeopardy 
on account of the thirst of her soul. Her 
aunt understood all this, and promised the 
young girl that in a few days she would be- 
come entirely and absolutely God's child. 



30 ST. ODILE. 

From that time Odile was cheerful and happy. 
She regained her color in all its freshness ; 
her communicative conversation won for her 
all the nuns, and she became the object of 
their tenderest care, wishes and prayers. 
Everybody said that the air of Jaume was 
salutary for the Duke of Alsace's daughter, 
but the gentle child whispered to herself that 
it was the exceeding happiness of her soul 
which gave life and strength to her feeble 
limbs. She computed the time that separ- 
ated her from the blessed moment of her 
Baptism, — that supreme moment that was to 
be followed by another so keenly desired, the 
moment when she would be united for the 
first time to her Lord and her God. She was 
now so often at the foot of the altar that she 
might be said to have taken up her abode 
there. The sparrow and dove build their 
nests in the cavities of rocks; Odile made 
hers in the shadow of the tabernacle. 

It took considerable time to realize Odile's 
ardent desire, but the history of this tardy 
Baptism is deeply engraved in the memory 



ODILE'S CHILDHOOD. 3 1 

of Alsace. The different legends which have 
taken possession of it, and have been en- 
riched by popular imagination, may vary as 
to details and form ; but the day on which 
Odile opened the eyes of her soul, and, by 
God's miraculous intervention, also the eyes 
of her body, is a memorable day enshrined 
in the hearts of the people, and written in 
golden letters in the history of the country. 
Paris is by a just title proud of St. Genevieve, 
and Lorraine of Jeanne d' Arc ; Alsace like- 
wise claims her beloved Odile as her greatest 
glory, and delights to repeat incessantly that 
never on earth lived so sweet a princess, nor 
in heaven so gracious a Saint. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE MIRACLE AT ODILE'S BAPTISM. 

A SINGULAR incident happened when 
Odile was baptized. The saintly priest 
Ehrard, who Hved a very secluded life, was 
admonished by a mysterious voice to pro- 
ceed immediately to the monastery of Jaume 
and administer the Sacrament of regeneration 
to the grand-niece of Abbess Agnes. But 
God's magnificent kindness did not cease 
here, as we shall see in the course of this 
chapter. 

When the solemn day arrived on which 
Odile was to be made heiress to the eternal 
kingdom of heaven, great preparations were 
apparent in and around the abbey to cele- 
brate worthily the festive event. It was but 
just that joy and gladness should be in the 
air, for another precious soul was about to 
be born for heaven. The convent bells 
pealed forth their happy hymn, and appeared 

(32) 



ODILE S BAPTISM. 33 

to endeavor to make the solemnities of 
Easter and Pentecost jealous of this new 
feast. The Abbess herself took charge of 
the neophyte, and proceeded at the proper 
time to the young girl's room to conduct her 
to the chapel where Ehrard waited for her. 
She found her niece prostrate before the 
crucifix. " Come, my dear," Agnes said to 
her, '* come to the church, where you m.ay 
finish your prayers. Give me your arm and 
I shall guide you along the way." Odile, 
who was entirely recollected in God, per- 
mitted herself to be led without saying a 
word. When I say that she suffered herself 
tD be led, I am mistaken; for she walked so 
quickly that it required some extraordinary 
effort for her aunt to keep pace with her, 
and this extreme eagerness, as manifested in 
her walk, was a prophetic intuition to Agnes 
of the astounding miracle which was to be 
wrought in a few moments. 

*' Anybody would say," the Abbess thought, 
'' that this child saw clearly her way, so quick 
and sure is her step to-day; but alas! her 
3 



34 ST. ODILE. 

large open eyes are dull as usual." Yet while 
Odile continued her prayers, the good nun 
in a low voice besought the Archangel 
Raphael, who of old cured the blindness of 
Tobias, to apply his remedies this day for the 
cure of Adalric's afflicted daughter. When 
the young girl, pure as a lily in her white 
gown, came to the place appointed for her, 
Ehrard arose, and standing before the altar, 
spoke to her at length about her happy priv- 
ileges, and addressed her in such touching 
language that the whole assembly was in 
tears, while Odile appeared to be ravished in 
God and to be listening to the sweet conver- 
sation of some blessed spirit of Paradise who 
sees the Lord ever face to face. After the 
priest's instruction, he administered the holy 
rite of Baptism to this soul that had desired 
it so ardently and had comprehended its 
grace and efifects so far as it is possible to 
do so here below. But, O marvellous mercy 
and condescension of God ! at the instant 
when the Holy Ghost, who is, says Scripture, 
a consuming fire, that is to say both heat 



ODILE'S BAPTISM. 35 

and light, took possession of this Httle heart, 
so well prepared for His presence, He came 
with such overwhelming grace and strength 
that He illuminated also Odile's eyes, and as 
everything it seemed was to be divine in this 
stupendous marvel, the first object on which 
the natural sight of the new Christian cen- 
tered was the Sacred Host exposed on the 
altar. I leave you to judge of the emotion 
of all who v/itnessed this wonderful spectacle, 
and to fancy how, during the Mass which 
followed the sacramental ceremony, souls 
melted in their emulation to ofifer worthy 
acts of thanksgiving. Odile, however, who 
was actuated in everything by the sense of 
faith, valued more highly than this temporal 
favor the happy privilege of becoming a child 
of God and the Church, and the immediate 
event which awaited her of uniting her feeble 
humanity for the first time with the precious 
Body and Blood of her gracious Redeemer. 
This was surely the day that the Lord had 
made for the little exile, and she had reason 
to be glad and to rejoice therein. 



36 ST. ODILE. 

When the Holy Mysteries were finished 
and all had poured out their souls in bene- 
diction and gratitude to the Lord who had 
done such wondrous things, Odile accom- 
panied her aunt to a large hall, where the 
poor and needy from the whole country 
around had gathered by invitation of the 
Mother-Abbess. On her way to this ren- 
dezvous she could not help giving utterance 
to joyful exclamations at the objects which 
appealed to her sight. She did not weary 
of looking at the religieuses one after another, 
who had been so kind to her. Then every 
thing was so new to her: the light of day, 
the appearances of persons and things, and 
all that to which we are accustomed and 
which we enjoy, but the privation of w^hich is 
so keenly felt by poor blind creatures. Odile 
was surprised at every thing, asked pointed 
questions about everything, laughed and 
wept alternately; but above all, from the 
depths of her newly sanctified heart, she 
blessed and adored God. Her eyes actually 
gloated on the golden sunshine ; the soil in 



odile's baptism. 37 

springtide did not drink in more avidly the 
sun's warming beams than she the first per- 
ception of.dayHght. She often paused to 
look at 

"The sun, centre and sire of light 
The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven." 

After many stops, as we may well believe, 
along the way, they came at length to the 
place where the poor were assembled to re- 
ceive alms in honor of the Baptism. Their 
sovereign's daughter wished to serve them 
with her own hands, and it was marvellous to 
see how graciously she distributed the help 
that would relieve their misery. She knew 
how to speak a sympathetic w^ord to each 
one, giving from her soul as well as from her 
limited treasury. As regarded material alms, 
she was so generous that nothing would have 
remained for the last in line, if a wise provi- 
sion has not kept something in reserve to 
satisfy such an exigency. It was certainly a 
stroke of good fortune, albeit a source of 
much happiness, for these wretched persons 



38 ST. ODILE. 

bereft of resources, that the convent on this 
day doubled and trebled its usual bounty. 

Many of us in our days know little or noth- 
ing concerning the monastic institutions of 
the Middle Ages. And whatever little knowl- 
edge we pretend to is vitiated by such ele- 
ments of bigotry, misrepresentation and 
downright falsity that we may say that as far 
as knowledge of the internal workings of these 
monastic homes is regarded, we know noth- 
ing whatever about them. As potent an au- 
thority in our own times as Lord Salisbury, 
Prime Minister of England, has declared at a 
public meeting in London : '^ I wish we had 
still with us the friars of the good old days, 
who indeed gathered alms, not for themselves^ 
but for their fellow men!'^ Gladstone, a for- 
mer Prime Minister, also averred that Oxford 
and Cambridge saw their golden days under 
monastic rule.f Writers have misrepresented 
those days of faith and benevolence, when 
little social misery was apparent and charity 

* Father Karneagh, quoted in St, Joseph's Blatt, 
t Ibidem. 



ODILE'S BAPTISM. 39 

was dispensed solely for God's sake, or from 
some laudable religious motive. If some 
poor serf of those distant days were to come 
to life, he would soon bring to right reason 
our great declaimers on social questions ; he 
would inform these reformers of society that 
the monasteries were the hearths of charity, 
as well as the asylums of prayer and learn- 
ing, and that the large possessions of these 
convents were the patrimony of the suffer- 
ing members of Jesus Christ. 

There may have been exceptions to this 
general portrayal of the monasteries of the 
Middle Ages, but they were rare, extremely 
rare (and such exceptions are to be found 
everywhere ; there was a traitor even among 
the apostles) ; the monks of those times 
profited no more by their fortunes than do 
the Religious of to-day. These ancient 
monks labored like indefatigable working- 
men ; they were the first to clear with their 
own hand a major part of the soil of Gaul 
and Germany, to lay the foundations of cities, 
towns and villages and to attract to their 



40 ^ ST. ODILE. 

neighborhood whole families — the nucleus of 
a nation — for whom they secured the means 
of gaining a livelihood. The monks also were 
occupied with the education of children, and 
for this purpose founded schools, free schools 
wherein there was no charge for tuition ; they 
applied themselves with incredible patience 
and assiduity to preserve the monuments of 
antiquity, the priceless documents and innu- 
merable manuscripts of previous ages, by 
transcribing them and transmitting them to 
posterity, that has repaid them wath malice, 
contempt and falsehood. It was the monks 
who cultivated in France a moral beauty of 
soul by implanting in rugged hearts the faith 
of which that lovely country was so proud in 
days when she gloried in her title of *^ Eldest 
Daughter of the Church." These convents 
of men and women, rich though they were in 
lands and stock, lived quite economically; 
food was frugal and not over-abundant in 
them, and their inmates were not disposed to 
gratify ^^fancies or indulge in extravagance. 
Undoubtedly^their domains were very exten- 



odile's baptism. 41 

sive, but they constituted only a trust for 
religious and benevolent purposes. Wealthy 
persons desired after their death that some 
portion of what they had received from God 
should be given to the Church, and in this 
they were actuated either by devotion or by 
the wish to do something in expiation of 
their sins. The abbeys were able to carry 
into execution the wishes of testators with 
more readiness and less expense than official 
channels of charity in our much-belauded 
times are wont to do. History tells us that 
these monastic depositaries of charity were 
never deficient in their task, and they dis- 
tributed with prudence and inteUigence the 
gifts of the Lord. It is not, perhaps, in this 
light that they are represented in our days to 
the popular mind, but the truth abides eter- 
nally, and however maliciously they may 
have been painted, yet we cannot change 
the past. We shall speak more extendedly 
of the nuns in Chapter VII. 

But see how far we have wandered from 
Odile in the consideration of these ancient 



42 ST. ODILE. 

memories ; but no, we have scarcely left her, 
for we have been only tracing out what passed 
at Jaume as elsewhere. Surrounded by 
blessed influences, her soul developed as 
sweetly as the blooming rose, and she soon 
became a model of devotion and meekness. 

** How happy she is ! How angelic her 
presence!" Agnes said. ''AH will be well, 
provided no robber comes to take her away 
from us." The robber, however, came. One 
evening a courier, worn out by miles of travel, 
but of proud bearing, indicative of the lackey 
of a rich and noble house, knocked at the 
monastery door. He was in a great hurry, 
he said, and was charged with an important 
message for Odile. The latter was engaged 
at the time in reciting the office in the choir 
with the nuns. She was sent for and received 
the stranger. 

'' Whence do you come, brave esquire, and 
what news do you bring?" she asked. ''Is 
my dear mother Bereswinde in good health? 
as I daily beseech of God." 

" God has heard you, noble lady," an- 



odile's baptism. 43 

swered the traveler. '' But Bereswinde her- 
self is ignorant of niy message to you. I 
have been deputed by the young lord Hugh, 
your brother, to come to you ; you have 
doubtless learned that four sons have been 
given by heaven to my master since your de- 
parture. Sir Hugh has not his equal on this 
side of the Rhine ; you could not look at a 
finer horseman, notwithstanding his extreme 
youth, for he is scarcely fifteen years of age. 
Adalric finds in him all his chivalric tastes ; 
but he possesses especially Beresvvinde's 
virtues : her goodness, generosity and piety. 
Many times he has spoken to me of his dear 
sister Odile, w^hen I pursued the gam.e in our 
forests with him ; at length, yesterday, not 
to be separated from you any longer, he 
said, * Go, depart for Jaume ; tell Odile that 
her mother cannot be comforted in her ab- 
sence, and that Adalric, himself, whose joy 
was manifestly great when he ascertained 
that she recovered her sight, cannot now fail 
to love her. In a word, bring her to me.' " 
Odile hid her head in her hands, and burst 



41- ST. ODILE. 

into tears. Her regret at leaving her dear 
solitude; her joy in seeing for the first time 
her mother and meeting this brother who de- 
sired her with so much impatience; then her 
anxiety about the reception which would be 
accorded her at her father's castle — all these 
thoughts crossing one another caused a vio- 
lent combat in her soul. She remained si- 
lent; she knelt in prayer; then calm came, 
and answering the man-at-arms, she said: 
^' To-morrow I shall leave with you for Ho- 
henburg." 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE DUKE OF SUABIA, ODILE'S SUITOR. 

The sun arose full and bright the next 
morning, betokening a beautiful day. It 
sported merrily on the lofty hell tower, and 
quietly conveyed its morning smile to the 
window of the cells in which dwelt the 
daughters of the cloister. It presented itself 
with gladness at Odile's small window. Ever 
since this child of benediction had felt her 
eyes to be opened to the sense of light, she 
always greeted with extreme pleasure this 
first visit of the King of the luminaries, but 
to-day there was too much sadness in her 
soul for this. Her eyes roamed with restless- 
ness and melancholy over the enchanting 
horizon which enthralled her young imagina- 
tion, and drew from her heart accents full of 
poetry, and particulary full of gratitude to 
the Lord of all ; tears coursed silently down 
her cheeks, and she repeated a last prayer 

(45) ;, 



46 ST. ODILE. 

for the mothers whom Providence had pro- 
vided for her in this asylum of innocence 
and peace. 

Her thoughts, after this morning devotion, 
turned towards Hohenburg. Gradually she 
lost her apprehensions, and not permitting 
her mind to be transported at the beck of 
the thoughtlessness habitual to her years, 
she undertook to look at everything in the 
ideal. Her heart bounded with joy at the 
prospect of embracing once more her 
mother ; she even calculated that it would 
not be such a difificult task to gain her 
father's love ; she wanted to make his vas- 
sals happy, and to open with her return an 
era of happiness in the seigneurial domains of 
Alsace ; and finally she smiled, as was her 
custom, at the sunbeam that stole in her 
window to salute her. At this moment, the 
Abbess entered her niece's chamber. She 
understood at a glance everything, the inter- 
nal contention of the girl, and the calm which 
her confidence in God had brought, mingled, 
perhaps^ with some harmless illusions. At 



odile's suitor. 47 

the sight of her aunt, however, Odile' could 
no longer restrain herself; she threw herself 
into the arms of Agnes and began to weep 
vehemently. 

** Courage, my child !" the holy nun mur- 
mured into her ear. '* Courage ! the Lord 
Jesus to whom you have given yourself will 
always shield you. Fear nothing in leaving 
us. But tell me, if some one should sue for 
that love whfch binds you to the Spouse of 
virgins, what will you do?" 

" Oh ! I would not recall it from Christ. 
When we give our heart, dear aunt, we give 
it in good earnest." 

'* Certainly, but you may one day find 
yourself in situations particularly trying. 
Poor princesses are, alas ! only too often the 
mere playthings of the ambition of others.'* 

'' God will keep me in His love," Odile 
simply replied. 

The Abbess was silent; she had confidence 
in the future ; what God guards is well 
guarded. 

Meanwhile, voices on every side were call- 



48 ST. ODILE. 

ing for the traveler. Her speedy courser was 
pawing the ground impatiently in the court- 
yard of the monastery ; Odile must set ofif 
immediately, if she wished to reach Hohen- 
burg before nightfall. The noble daughter 
of Alsace now returns to the castle-home of 
her fathers, to become forever the tutelary 
angel of her native land. Towards the mid- 
dle of the day, the journey was interrupted 
to partake of some repose and to allow Odile 
to recruit her strength ip. the shade of an old 
walnut; after this short respite the two trav- 
elers pursued their route, and like Eliezer of 
old conducting Rebecca to her master's 
dwelling, the herald-at-arms spoke to Odile 
at length of all that would henceforth enter 
into her life, and was inexhaustible in his in- 
formation respecting the people of Hohen- 
burg. Odile listened to him with pleasure, 
but as she was accustomed to converse with 
God for the purpose of finding a proper mo- 
tive for her actions rather than seeking it in 
human views, she recollected herself at inter- 
vals and thus m.oderated her companion's 



ODILE'S SUITOR. 49 

vivacity. In the quietude of her conscience 
she already tasted of the beatitude promised 
to the peacemakers, that they would be the 
children of God; in the sweetness of her 
charity she began to feel now that the earth, 
that is to say, the empire of hearts, was the 
lot of the meek; but it was reserved for her, 
as for the Apostle of the nations, to experi- 
ence trial for the name of the Lord. 

The first star had barely appeared in the 
sky when the two wearied horses finished the 
ascent of the majestic slope of Hohenburg. 
The faithful servant, turning by the court of 
honor, rapped discreetly thrice on a con- 
cealed door. This was the signal agreed 
upon; and Odile, unable to recognize where 
she was led, found herself in the arms of her 
brother. The saints have hearts like every- 
body else, yes,_eyen more definitely, because 
they are nearer to^divine charity ; accord- 
ingly I leave you to fancy the exceeding joy 
of the young girl at meeting Prince Hugh, 
and I am sure at that moment Hugh would 
not have given his sister for ten provinces. 
4 



50 . ST. ODILE. 

It was settled that Bereswinde should not be 
informed of her son's exploit till the follow- 
ing morning, and then they would all consult 
as to the best means of conveying their in- 
telligence to Adalric. Odile went to her 
much-needed repose under the protection of 
our Blessed Lady, whom she devoutly in- 
voked every night. The Virgin Mother 
smiled from heaven on her earthly child and 
bent lowly over her with tenderness, as for- 
merly she hung over the crib of the Word 
made flesh, her first-born Son, the Principle 
of her two-fold maternity, for she is the 
mother both of God made man and of men 
ransomed by God. 

When Odile awoke the next morning, she 
at first cast a glance around her new room. 
It was no longer the cell of the monastery, 
but a sumptuous apartment in the castle of 
the Dukes of Alsace. Do not think that she 
valued too highly this princely luxury; she 
was too good a Christian to estimate the 
wealth of this world more than it was worth 
in reality, and she labored for a better treas- 



ODILE'S SUITOR. 5 I 

ure in heaven, which robbers can not steal 
away. She was in no wise to be blamed for 
this, for the only lasting thing we can ever 
find is what we have sent to the other world 
before us, and the Princess Odile acted in 
everything with heavenly wisdom and great 
love of God. After she arose and said her 
prayers, she drew aside the blue silk curtain 
which covered the window and looked out on 
lovely nature, so enchanting and splendid 
around castellated Hohenburg, but her 
thought did not follow her look. There was 
one fixed idea pre-occupying her: to see her 
mother. 

At this moment, Bereswinde, who had 
been told all at an early hour by Hugh, 
opened the door of the room; she was fol- 
lowed by her four sons, three of whom w^ere 
yet quite young. The meeting was followed 
by such happiness for Odile, that in its ex- 
cessiveness it almost broke the chords of her 
heart. The dew-drop never so much rejoiced 
the thirsty flower, nor the song of the bird 
the weary traveler, as did the caresses of 



52 ST. ODILE. 

the Duchess dilate her child's affectionate 
soul. 

We can easily believ^e that the bond which 
was formed at that happy moment was even 
more strengthful than that which proceeds 
from nature ; it resembled rather the tie that 
binds the Blessed abov^e. When the excite- 
ment of this meeting passed away, the next 
matter for consideration was how the arrival 
, of Odile could be communicated to Adalric, 
and all agreed that Bereswinde should be 
charged with the delivery of this message to 
her husband. She accordingly proceeded to 
notify her lord, and spoke to him so persua- 
sively and pointedly that Adalric, who, on 
the other hand, had for some time compunc- 
tion of conscience regarding his treatment of 
his daughter, assured his wife that he wished 
to testify towards his child his entire love and 
friendship. In order to prove the truth of 
his words, he gave orders that suitable fes- 
tivities should be celebrated at Hohenburg 
for a period of seven days. During this 
week, there was nothing but hunting-parties, 



odile's suitor. 53 

banquets and tournaments. The hunting 
horn made the deer of the forest bound from 
their lurking-places ; the Rhenish wine flowed 
to the brim in large bowls ; and towards even- 
ing, the knights, laying aside their tight-fitting 
coats, put on their shining suits of armor to 
tilt courteously with each other in the pres- 
ence of the ladies. Odile conducted herself 
with such grace and angelic modesty that 
the sympathy of all went out to her whenever 
she appeared. If she ravi6hed the adm.iration 
of the angels, it could not be such a difScult 
task for her to charm poor mortals. 

When the week's festivities were termii- 
nated, she resumed the tranquil life which 
she had formerly led under Berthilda's roof, 
and had continued in the abbey of Jaume. 
Every morning she left the castle, and follow- 
ing the beaten paths of the mountain, she 
visited the poor and afflicted of the surround- 
ing country. Her presence was a sunbeam 
to every home, which dried away the tears 
of pain and sorrow. As she had now wealth 
at her disposal, she was able to relieve much 



54 ST. ODILE. 

misery; but whatever she gave, she gave 
from the promptings of a compassionate 
heart and for Jesus' sake, and the poor of the 
country began to call her by the name which 
future generations have ever recognized : 
The Good Princess. As such Alsace knows 
her to-day. 



Have you sometimes seen in the sky a 
cloud threatening to ascend from the hori- 
zon and obscure its brightness? Have you 
seen this dark spot suddenly increasing and 
impregnating the atmosphere with thick mist, 
until the sun, terrified, veils his face in the 
firmament? Have you ever felt the analogy 
between these phenomena of nature and 
what is going on in the life of a soul? 

A cloud arose also in Odile's . beautiful 
clear sky, and once more the hour of trial 
came. The Saint was compelled to face this 
cruel storm, and to add by patience — the 
virtue of perfect souls— to the vehemence of 
her love for God. But her heart was well 



odile's suitor. 55 

steeled to endure the effects of grief and 
trial, and she understood completely the 
truth of what has been expressed in our days 
by a woman of fine talent: *' One who has 
not suffered knows nothing; one who has 
suffered somewhat knows something; one 
who has suffered much, and in a Christian 
manner, has the key to the secrets of 
eternity." 

Among the guests invited to participate in 
the festivities of Hohenburg was a young Ger- 
man Duke, Frederic, one of the most illus- 
trious princes of his time. Many lords were 
his vassals on both sides of the Rhine. More- 
over, his martial bearing, lofty sentiments, 
and justness of mind and heart, made him 
an ideal ruler. He was much taken with 
Odile, and since he had seen her, he could 
not withdraw her image from his mind ; 
truly the Prince had made a good choice, 
and he could not have chosen better. But 
our young Saint had also made her choice 
infinitely better, and would have no other 
spouse spoken of except the Lord Jesus. 



S6 ST. ODILE. 

Frederic returned to Alsace ; he imparted to 
Adalric the feeHngs of his heart, and the 
latter, dazzled by the prospect of this unex- 
pected alliance, wished also to dispose of his 
daughter's hand to the ardent young ruler of 
Suabia. Odile, however, had already made 
her promise to her aunt, the Abbess, and 
still more to God ; she would not suffer her 
heart to be stolen away. Meanwhile appeals 
became urgent ; orders and threats succeeded 
to supplication and entreaty. At the height 
of the tempest the young virgin sought help 
from Him who, by one word, calmed the 
fury of the waves. '' Lord," she said to Him, 
'*Thou who dost command the elements and 
appease their wrath. Thou who art the 
Master of events and men, assist Thy servant. 
Deprived since childhood of all things, even 
of a mother's care, deprived almost of her 
milk, I have been ever fostered by Thy favor, 
and have hoped under the shadow of Thy 
wings. My father and mother had forsaken 
me, but Thou, Lord, didst shelter me; Thy 
bosom was the refuge of the forlorn child, 



ODILE*S SUITOR. 5/ 

who wandered from asylum to asylum, and 
now that they endeavor to make me break 
the promise which I made to Thee of con- 
secrating my whole life to Thy service, and 
to perjure myself in Thy sinless presence, to 
Thy power, Lord, it belongeth to deliver Thy 
servant from danger and to protect my soul/' 

Odile arose from this prayer more peace- 
ful and confident, having placed her virginity 
under the protection of Christ's power. But 
Adalric did not consider himself vanquished ; 
he would make a last attempt to force the 
gentle girl's will. 

He found her one evening sitting on a 
rustic bench ; she w^as following with her 
eyes the glorious sunset away ofif in the 
horizon, and gazing at the heavens as if she 
were seeking there rest and peace for her 
mind. 

'' Odile," the lord of Hohenburg said, " I 
want you to know that this time I will be 
obeyed. I have promised you to Prince 
Frederic, and cannot go back on my word. 
You owe to your beauty and virtue this dis- 



58 ST. ODILE. 

tinguished alliance, which will be honorable 
for us and will extol our house in the pres- 
ence of all Germany. The Duke is now 
waiting for your consent, and will forthwith 
make the necessary preparations for the mar- 
riage." 

*' Father," Odile replied, ''I have already 
spoken, nor can I retract the vow which I 
have made to Jesus Christ. What would 
you say of a vassal who violated his sworn 
faith with his lord? Would you not con- 
sider him a traitor and felon? May the 
King of heaven protect me against treason 
and felony ! " 

** The King of heaven knows that you are 
but a child without experience, and that you 
will be as free to serve Him in Frederic's 
palace as you would be in the cloister. To 
be brief, I do not accept your refusal, and 
command you to execute my orders with a 
good grace." 

Lord Adalric appeared to be greatly in- 
censed ; he uttered these last words in a tone 
of voice which admitted of no reply, and 




'-^^idm 



ti^^^^^i^^f^ 




I have made a vow to the Lord, and I will accomplish it, even 
if it were to cost me my life. 



ODILE S SUITOR. 59 

departed without hearing his daughter, who 
murmured softly: *' I have made a vow to 
the Lord, and I will accomplish it, even if it 
were to cost me my life." 

Odile, at length, understood that she could 
not remain at Hohenburg. In the meantime 
the German Duke announced his arrival; he 
had come, everybody said, to claim his be- 
trothed. The castle put on a festive appear- 
ance, in marked contrast with the thoughts of 
the Princess in whose honor the majestic 
structure was clothed in unusual splendor. 
The eve of Frederic's coming v/as at hand. 
Adalric, proud in having, as he believed, 
overcome his daughter's resistance, looked 
with satisfaction at the magnificent decora- 
tions which were apparent on every side. 
The servants of the house came and went 
with busy air ; Hugh seemed to be delighted ; 
Bereswinde recommended Odile to God. 

The mist of the night gradually enveloped 
the castle Vv^ith its winding-sheet, and masters 
and servants took their rest, well earned after 
the day*s labors. All at once a secret door, 



6o ST. ODILE. 

leading out to a solitary path in the forest, 
opened noiselessly; a slender figure, resem- 
bling much an apparition, glided over the 
mossy ground ; it was the daughter of the 
Duke of Alsace. Disguised in beggar's cloth- 
ing, she was taking refuge for a second time 
in flight. For a moment she appeared to 
hesitate and leaned against the trunk of a 
tree as if her heart failed her ; it was the re- 
membrance of her beloved mother, her 
brother Hugh whose affection had brought 
her to the home from which she was now 
withdrawing of her own will, — it was these 
recollections that arose before her distracted 
mind and lessened her courage. What 
would she do? Return to the lordly dwell- 
ing and celebrate the earthly marriage-feast? 
or roam at random, sacrificing her repose in 
this world, to be found worthy to celebrate 
one day the heavenly nuptials with the 
virgins who ever follow the Lamb? She 
thought of the young martyrs of the first 
centuries, whose history she had often heard 
Berthilda relate, — of the Agneses, Agathas, 



odii.e's suitor. 6i 

and Cecilias who sealed with their blood 
their union with Christ. A sweet smile 
passed over her countenance, and she ex- 
claimed resolutely : '^ Onward !" 



CHAPTER V. 

ADALRIC'S GRIEF AND HIS QUEST FOR 
ODILE. 
At day-break, the hunting-horn sounded 
forth its vibrating notes, which were repeated 
again and again by the ringing mountain 
echoes, and announced Duke Frederic's ar- 
rival. All the people of Hohenburg were 
afoot, and so to speak, up in arms to receive 
the princely visitor. The long escort of 
Germans filed into the court of honor. 
Frederic, proudly seated on his best steed 
and arrayed in brilliant armor, recalled to 
one's mind, by his royal bearing, the god of 
war in person, if his countenance did not, on 
the contrary, reflect entirely pacific and. 
cheerful dispositions. He spurred on his 
horse so vigorously before the main entrance 
and the animal wheeled about so gracefully 
that it was a marvel to behold him. Frederic 
supposed that the lady of his thoughts, hid- 
(62) 



ADALRIC'S GRIEF. 63 

den behind some tapestry, found the spec- 
tacle to her taste, but the poor prince lost his 
time and pains. 

Meanwhile he alighted : Adalric and his 
son Hugh advanced to meet and receive 
him courteously. When he entered the spa- 
cious dining-hall, he was offered wherewith 
to recuperate his strength, but he hardly 
touched the viands which were served. 
Surely the Duke Frederic was not hungry 
this day ! When a sufficient interval had 
elapsed, and it was supposed that Odile was 
now ready, according to the instructions 
given her the evening before by her father, a 
messenger was sent to her room to conduct 
her to her future husband. Her maid was 
charged with this mission ; but the cage was 
empty, the bird had spread its pure, white 
wings and flown away. Adalric having been 
informed that his daughter could not be 
found, fell into a towering passion and 
despair. The castle halls echoed and re- 
echoed with Odile's name, but Odile was no- 
where to answer the voices that called her. 



64 ST. ODILE. 

You may easily imagine Frederic's astonish- 
ment and chagrin and Bereswinde's grief ; yet 
this brave woman, a Christian mother above 
all, divined the reason of her daughter's 
flight and understood that she was acting by 
God's inspiration. Like the mothers of the 
martyrs, she offered silently her sacrifice to 
the Lord and blessed Him, even while her 
soul was wrung with anguish. Bereswinde 
was a noble character. This day which had 
been proclaimed as a festivity had now be- 
come a day of mourning. Seeing that all 
search was of no avail within the castle-walls, 
attendants began to explore the vicinity; in- 
formation was lodged everywhere. Nobody 
could tell anything exact about Odile, and 
the Saint of Alsace seemed to have quitted 
the country after the mianner of spirits, leav- 
ing no mark on the soil whereby she could 
be traced. 

Adalric knew that he was suffering the 
chastisement of his fault, and that it was sheer 
folly for man to dispute with God His rights. 
He understood also that his daughter's brow. 



ADALRIC S GRIEF. 65 

which would be encircled with a royal diadern 
in eternity, could not stoop to accept a worldly 
crown, and that the flame of chaste love which 
lived triumphant in this virginal heart and 
which was enkindled by Christ's all-powerful 
grace, could not be extinguished by mortal 
means. The Knight's dormant faith awoke 
in the depths of his consciousness, and the 
day, without doubt, would dawn when he 
would appreciate that if he were honored by 
a desirable alliance with the most powerful 
prince in Germany, he would value as greater 
glory the union which bound Odile to the 
King of kings and the Lord of all. 

He allowed some of these reflections, now 
too dilatory, to escape from his lips during 
the following week, when the family were 
gathered in a leafy bower, having with them 
for the last time their illustrious guest, who 
on the morrow was to depart to his large do- 
main for which he had come to do homage 
to the daughter of the Duke of Alsace, and 
which she had nobly refused. F'rederic, 
however had an upright and loyal soul, and 
5 



66 ST. ODILE. 

sentiments worthy a Christian prince. " Why 
did you not tell me," he said to Adalric, 
'*that Odile was consecrated to God? Not- 
withstanding my great love for her, I would 
have been the first to say to her : ' Odile, you 
have made a vow to the Lord, you must ful- 
fil it. I have nought to ofifer you but a 
passing glory, the riches of a few fleeting 
da}^s ; but He to whom you belong by a just 
title will have you reign with Him eternally 
in heaven. By St. Michael ! to every lord 
his honor ! I would never have yielded you 
to any prince of my time, for by a Knight's 
faith, I would have considered him a rash 
man who had the boldness to stand up as 
my rival, and with him I would have meas- 
ured sharp weapons ; but I give you up to 
God.' " 

'"Alas!" replied Hugh, sighing, *'it is too 
late now, great Prince, for us to remedy our 
misfortune. I shall never be comforted for 
havinglost Odile, perhaps, forever. Ever since 
my childhood's days, when I was but diffi- 
dently told that I had a sister, my heart went 



ADALRIC'S GRIEF. 6^ 

out to her, it seemed, with the greatest affec- 
tion which a brother could have, and I was 
always accompanied by preference in my 
childish rambles by those servants who had 
known her from birth and could speak about 
her. I had a lively solicitude for her at heart, 
and grew up in these sentiments until the 
day when the subterfuge of which you know 
came into my mind, and I sent my page as 
a safe escort to the poor exile to bring her 
back to Hohenburg. Ah ! why must Odile 
be stolen again from me, and how foolish I 
was to urge my father to force her on a way 
that was not hers! Where is she now? 
What has become of her? Perhaps the 
daughter of the Alsatian Duke is begging 
her bread like the lowest of our serfs. Per- 
haps she is wandering in some savage forest 
and has found only a deserted cave for 
shelter. • Perhaps — but I do not dare think 
of it — perhaps she has died far away from 
us, of hunger and want." 

When the young nobleman uttered these 
last words in a choking voice, he buried his 



68 ST. ODILE. 

head in his hands to conceal his tears. At the 
same moment, a heavy step was heard in the 
path leading through the park, crushing in its 
passage the dry leaves which autumn had de- 
tached from the trees. It was the Abbot of a 
neighboring monastery, at thesam^e time aus- 
tere and meek, whose reputation for sanctity 
and learning was well known throughout the 
country. 

^* It is God who sent you. Father," 
said Adalric, directing his way towards the 
visitor to greet him. *'Your words may 
alone bring me some peace. I have been 
very culpable in a tw^o-fold manner towards 
my daughter. Do you think that the Lord 
will forgive me and send her back to me?" 
When he said this, he drew the Abbot into a 
secluded path where they found a seat made 
of stone and covered with a cushion of moss. 

*'God is infinitely merciful, my son," the 
monk replied, seating himself; '^therefore I 
have confidence that He will take pity on 
your grief and not reject your repentance. I 
think that I can assure you in His name 



ADALRIC'S GRIEF. 69 

Odile lives and you will see her again; but 
consider how great has been your rashness ! 
First, when heaven deigned to give you this 
blessed child, the infirmity which she brought 
with her at birth made her a hateful object 
to you. The blind one, Adalric, was your- 
self, who was dreaming only of the riches and 
honors of the world for your family, while 
she who was deprived of the light of day was 
able to see spiritually in God's eternal truth. 
Now you are aware that she was a good, 
pious child in her exile, and instead of nurs- 
ing rancor in her heart towards you, she, on 
the contrary, prayed incessantly for your 
welfare. Since her return to Hohenburg, 
you have seen as well as I how everybody in 
the castle and surrounding country has been 
delighted wfih her company, and how the 
child, it seemed, in her simplicity touched 
all who approached her with the magic wand 
of happiness. But see. how ambition and 
smoke have made you fall headlong into sin 
against God and your daughter, when you 
strove to mak(j these same views enter nito 



^0 ST. ODILE. 

Odile's heart ; but that heart said to you 
peremptorily 'Halt,' and when you drew 
the storm upon it, it stole away from you to 
save its honor/' 

''You are quite right. Father," said the 
Duke, " and my guilt is now ever present to 
my m.ind, But tell me, was not this desire 
for which you blame me, this desire of an 
advantageous marriage for Odile, was it not 
after all a very legitimate desire?" 

" Assuredly, if the circumstances were dif- 
ferent. God does not'only not forbid us from 
providing for the temporal welfare of our 
children, but he also commands us to do so. 
The very animals undergo this law, which is 
the most pleasant in nature. See, if my eyes 
do not deceive me, there is above me a 
pretty nest of wrens, from which I perceive 
the male and female going and to which re- 
turning on hurried wing to find whatever 
fortune may give them in the neighborhood 
and to bestow their daily pittance on their 
little ones. That which is instinct in these 
small creatures is elevated to the dignity of 



ADALRIC'S GRIEF. 7 1 

a virtue in man who is endowed with reason, 
and it is a virtue whereby he accompHshes 
through duty what God commands him to 
do. This being determined, we must also 
admit that the soul is nobler and more val- 
uable than the body. If the Father of souls, 
the Lord who created them, has some par- 
ticular design or plan in regard to certain 
souls, and deigns to elevate them above the 
common lives and interests of mankind, it 
seems to me that it is a great injustice on 
the part of parents, who are such according 
to nature only, not to leave them in the 
hands of their first and principal Master. 
Parents have over their children only the 
rights which the Creator has given them, 
and these rights are subordinated in all 
things to the designs of the Most High 
whose vassals they are simply. But the 
God whom we serve is so good that He does 
not assert His rights, hence He is wont to 
vouchsafe generously in this world and in 
the other His rewards to those from whom 
He exacts great sacrifices. How many 



7^ ST. ODILE. 

fathers and mothers owe their eternal salva- 
tion to the tears and prayers which their 
children have shed and said in the Lord's 
bosom ! How many families are visited 
with most plentiful blessings because some 
one among them has interceded incessantly 
for them to Christ ! The Communion of 
Saints is a beautiful doctrine, in which some 
do penance and acts of virtue for others; 
therefore I engage that the people of the 
world would be worthy great pity, if they 
could thwart, as you attempted to do, the 
generous spirit which urges certain souls 
toward a life more perfect for themselves and 
more beneficial for others. I have also said 
that parents who place no obstacle in the 
way of their children's vocation receive many 
consolations in this forlorn world. First, 
they feel that their children are a hundred- 
fold more happy than they would be if they 
were attached to the world, and the enjoy- 
ment of this happiness is no inconsiderable 
thing. Again, if they really have faith, 
they will understand the dignity and extent 



ADALRiC'S GRIEF. 73 

of the call made by God to their sons and 
daughters, and will value it highly. The 
mother of the two Apostles, James and John, 
asked of the Lord for them the two principal 
places in His kingdom, one at the right 
hand, of His throne and the other at the 
left. Yet what she sought thus she in some 
measure obtained, and this privilege is still 
the portion of those who, after the example 
of the Apostles, have left all to follow Jesus 
the Saviour, for they will be in veritable 
honor in the Kingdom of His Father." 

'' You give me some relief," the Duke of 
Alsace replied. *'How exceedingly right 
Odile was, and how mistaken I was in my 



views 



'' Let me add moreover, Lord Adalric, to 
all the advantages for families, of which I 
have spoken, that receive the blessing of 
giving one of their own to the service of 
God, another great benefit which proceeds 
from proximity to infinite love (which makes 
us love more vehemently those to whom we 
owe our affection than natural sentiment is 



74 ST. ODILE. 

capable of), the great benefit that filial love 
is nowhere better developed than in those 
who are especially consecrated to the Lord." 

'' Ah ! well, may God give me back Odile, 
and in your presence, Father, I make now a 
vow to give to my daughter this domain of 
Hohenburg in order that she may establish 
here a monastery. I am a man of my word, 
and will hold faithfully to my promise." 

'^I receive this promise, my son, and like 
to think that I shall recall it to your memory. 
But it is growing late, and I wish, before re- 
turning to the convent, to salute the noble 
Bereswinde. Will you be kind enough to 
bring me to her?" 

Adalric conducted the Abbot towards the 
grove where the Duchess was. Her three 
youngest sons. Otto, Conrad, and Hubert, 
were playing around her, scarcely suspect- 
ing her sorrow, — the happy lot of childhood, 
which know^ not how to weep except be- 
tween smiles. Hugh and Frederic were also 
there. The monk invoked God's blessing on 
all, and then withdrew. 



ADALRIC'S GRIEF. 75 

On the following day, Frederic bade fare- 
well to Hohenburg, and a long interval 
ensued before he saw it again. He returned 
to his estates, but he was no longer the 
vivacious, joyful prince who came at the 
sound of the hunting-horn to the Alsatian 
castle to claim Odile's hand. His counten- 
ance, however, did not betray sadness of 
spirit, but rather a masculine seriousness, 
and if some prophet had the privilege of 
reading his soul, perhaps he would find there 
a resolution already formed, though it was 
still a secret, which concerned the King of 
heaven and the Duke of Suabia. 

* * * -)^ * * 

For a whole year Adalric searched for his 
daughter in the vicinity of his home and the 
outlying districts. He had promised in vain 
magnificent rewards to any one who could 
give information about Odile; he had in vain 
sent out scouts to explore the villages and 
forests ; his efforts were useless, and he 
began to fear exceedingly that he would 
nevermore see the princess in this world. 



j6 ST. ODILE. 

Bereswinde prayed ardently to the Blessed 
Virgin to give her back her child, and could 
not believe that she would not be heard, 
but, at times, she became also discouraged 
in her long expectancy. She found some 
comfort in caressing her little Hubert, whose 
open smiling countenance resembled strik- 
ingly Odile's. 

One day a peasant- woman came to the 
castle and asked to speak to the Duchess ; it 
was the faithful Berthilda, who, ascertaining 
from the reports spread about the country 
that the child of her adoption had disap- 
peared, desired to have some intelligence 
about the event and had made afoot the long 
journey which separated her from Hohen- 
burg. 

'VAlas!" said Bereswinde weeping, '* God 
alone knows if my daughter yet lives, and to 
what place she has retired. For His love 
she left all, and He it is who watches over 
her." Berthilda shared the noble lady's 
grief; she could be comforted no longer for 
Odile's absence, and being a girl of good 



ADALRIC'S GRTEF. 7/ 

judgment and decorum, she gave advice that 
was listened to with readiness : ''Madame, 
when Odile knows that you are trying to 
find her place of concealment and has heard 
your project spoken of, she will take pre- 
cautionary measures not to come back, be- 
cause she values her vow at a greater price 
than her life. Do you not think that it 
would be the best policy to have it pro- 
claimed by heralds on all sides that the 
Duke of Alsace promises his daughter, if 
she will return to her home, not to oppose 
her wishes on the subject of her vow made 
to the Most High, and to give her some suit- 
able place for a monastery? Poor little 
thing that I am, I do not hesitate to say 
that, by this means your search will be suc- 
cessful." 

Adalric recognized the justice of this 
advice and approved of it ; it was announced 
with great ado on both sides of the Rhine 
that the Princess Odile need not fear to re- 
turn to Hohenburg, as the Duke had given 
his word as a knight not to molest her. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ODILE BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 

While heaven and earth were thus being 
moved to find Odile, where was she? She 
was living in the poverty of Christ, but in 
peace of mind, in the suburbs of Freiburg 
under the guise of a beggar. In this place, 
many came willingly to her assistance, for 
she had kept even in her rags the gift of 
attracting all hearts to her. Several times 
inquisitive persons attempted to discover her 
origin, for she was as beautiful as a queen 
and as modest as a saint, but nobody was 
subtle enough to draw her secret from her. 

'' Pray, my dear," repeated often the 
daughter of a woodman who was so kind as 
to share with the princess her frugal meal, 
'^ pray, tell me at least from what country 
you came? " 

** Heaven is my real country," replied the 
unknown girl, smiling, ''and I am journeying 
(78) 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 79 

towards it ; I am so overwhelmed with afflic- 
tion, I indeed see that I am not in my 
country in this wretched world." A deep 
sorrow pervaded these words. 

''But do you know," said the young in- 
quirer, ''that you have the appearance of a 
fine lady, and certainly did not come from 
a cottage?" 

"Yes, I was reared under the roof of a 
cottage," Odile replied, very much afifected, 
as she recollected with happiness and grati- 
tude her first years which were passed in the 
good Berthilda's home, the humble shelter 
which she had graced with her infantile 
smiles, where she had shed her first tears and 
offered to God the first-fruits of her life. 
One beautiful day, Adalric's heralds arrived 
at Freiburg. The whole province was in a 
state of commotion; in the cabins and in the 
castles, the talk turned on the subject of this 
runaway Princess Odile, of high and power- 
ful family, who, by her flight, had left her 
fate a mystery to be unraveled. 

People of all classes and castes of human- 



8o ST. ODILE. 

ity, noble, middle and plebeian, have been 
inquisitive and curious in all ages. It is nut 
to day that they have begun to chatter and 
gossip, or have been ready to make an ox 
out of an egg by dint of increasing the latter- 
A sensation is especially food for conversa- 
tion. Everybody at Freiburg told every- 
body else the miarvelous story of Odile's 
disappearance ; some even went so far as to 
say that she had ascended, like Enoch and 
Elias, on a fiery chariot, and was dwelling 
with them in a region whither nobody could 
go and find her. But the best manoeuvre 
in all this battle of tongues was the one made 
by Rose, the woodman's daughter, who, as 
we have seen, gave nearly every day half of 
her brown bread to the pretty pauper. She 
did not go about gabbling with her neigh- 
bors, nor bring her ingenuity to bear on the 
account of Odile's flight which had been 
already highly elaborated by seething brains ; 
but, a less vulgar inquirer, she left her house 
and proceeded slowly to the neighboring 
church, where she knew that her beggar- 
friend passed many hours at her devotions. 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 8 1 

Rose carried her plan in her head un- 
known to anybody, but she was much 
bothered as to how she could put adroitly 
and successfully the questions which she had 
determined to ask. But, however, bothered 
she was, it was first of all necessary for her 
to exercise her patience, for Odile's prayers 
were not finished, and so great was the 
respect which she inspired in all that nobody 
would presume to interrupt her. At least 
Rcse could look at her at her ease, and the 
young lady's countenance appeared to her 
a^ luminous as a seraph's, when she raised 
her eyes toward the tabernacle and adored 
her God. When her devotions were at an 
end, the mendicant arose and left the sacred 
place; the young observer followed her 
softly and joined her on the porch. 

" By St. Michael ! my dear, I thought that 
we were going to bed in there," she ex- 
claimed, laughing as if her heart would 
break. '' Do you know that I have been 
praying for three hours waiting for you?" 

*' I do not doubt it, Rose, because I did 
6 



82 ST. ODILE. 

not hear you enter ; but have you something 
very urgent to tell me?" 

''Well, yes ! For the past two days there 
has been quite an uproar in Freiburg, to 
which city the Duke of Alsace has sent men- 
at-arms who are bearers of important intelli- 
gence." When Rose said these words, she 
looked searchingly at Odile, who became 
slightly pale, and placed her hand on her 
breast, but she recovered so quickly from 
her emotion that nobody would have hardly 
noticed it, and she replied in a tone of voice 
already calm, ''What then is the matter?" 

" What ! You are the only person in the 
country who is ignorant of it. Do you not 
know that the Duke of Alsace, much afflicted 
at the loss of his daughter, who, report says, 
fled from his domain, has caused it to be 
proclaimed fn all places that he swears to 
leave her at liberty not to marry if it seem 
good to her, and also to bestow on her his 
castle of Hohenburg for a monastery." 

" Hohenburg ! — • A monastery ! " Odile 
could say no more. You can fancy her as- 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 83 

tonishment, joy, and above all the feeling of 
gratitude that welled up in her heart to God. 

'' I guessed it well," exclaimed Rose, jump- 
ing with gratification and clapping her hands. 
'* I am all at once much eased and pained, 
for now that I know you are the daughter of 
a prince, I shall scarcely dare look at you 
hereafter, still less embrace you as I did 
hitherto." 

'* What do you say?" Odile answered 
taking her gently by the hand ; '' I shall 
always love you, my dear Rose, and never 
forget the sweet pity which you testified 
towards me in my misery by relieving me 
with the best you had. Since the Lord 
Adalric, my father, makes an offer of peace 
to me in the name of the King of heaven 
and the gift of an abbey, will you bless God 
with me and come to live in my monastery ?" 

*' I shall follow you wherever you go. My 
parents have a heavy burden in their many 
children, and they will be delighted to see 
me serving the Saviour Jesus and our Blessed 
Lady in your company. But are you then 
resolved to return to Kohenburg?" 



84 ST. ODILE. 

'' I know my father, and know that he is 
loyal to his word ; if he has promised me 
liberty to consecrate my life to the Lord, he 
will not contravene his promise. My beloved 
mother, Bereswinde, longs, without doubt, 
for her daughter's return, and the time has 
come when I ought to go back to her. For 
a long year, day and night, I have besought 
Christ with tears to assist me in my poverty 
and weakness, having no one to defend nor 
help me. He that puts his hope in God and 
not in man abides under the all-powerful 
protection of the Master of the universe ; he 
does not hope in vain." 

Rose's tongue was speedily unloosed in 
the neighborhood, and in less than an hour, 
Adalric's messengers knew of the happy re- 
sult of. their mission to Freiburg. The 
Pearl of Alsace, who was sought for every- 
where, was at length found. This would be 
the making of the heralds' fortunes, for their 
prince valued very highly this pearl, and 
would reward, them magnificently for finding 
it. They were all to a man delighted also. 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 85 

because they loved their young4)rincess, and 
all the vassals adored her. 

Among the envoys sent to Freiburg was 
the oM serv^ant, who in former days had 
been appointed by Hugh to bring Odile from 
Jaume; hence, counting a second time on 
his lucky star, he had a presentiment of 
being successful in his new journey with the 
help of God and His holy angels. He was 
so overwhelmed with joy that he wanted to 
leave that same evening, but Odile begged 
for another day to bid farewell to the good 
people in the vicinity; and thanks to the 
pecuniary resources with which the Alsatian 
heralds had been furnished, she was enabled 
to acknowledge by favors the assistance 
which she received in exile. 

^ Tfx 7K ^ ^ • ^ 

Hohenburg was in holiday attire, just as 
when Prince Frederic came to see Odile. A 
cortege entered the court of honor, but it was 
not the German Duke with his retinue, it was 
the Saint of Alsace, who came once more to 
the home of her fathers. If ever mortals 



86 ST. ODILE. 

were happy, certainly it was the people of the 
castle at this moment when past trials and 
sufferings were forgotten. Adalric, however, 
always retained his regret; he could not be 
comforted for having caused his daughter so 
much tribulation, save by the thought of the 
happiness which he would prepare later for 
her. Bereswinde, given up wholly to joy, 
could have almost chanted her Nunc dhnit- 
tiSy if Odile had not remarked sensibly that 
they should now enjoy at length the happi- 
ness which God had vouchsafed them, and 
at a suitable time offer their thanksgiving to 
Him. Hugh never wearied of looking at the 
pallid, but ever sympathetic face of his young 
sister, on v*^hich sorrow had left the imprint 
of a newly reflected sanctity. Otto, Conrad 
and little Hubert hung on the gown of their 
big sister and begged for a large share of 
her caresses ; everybody felt in the atmos- 
phere that God's blessing had descended on 
this home. 

The Duke of Alsace held to his promise. 
He brought workingmen and architects in a 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 8/ 

short time to Hohenburg, and the ancient 
lordly castle was gradually transformed into a 
spendid monastery. The family quitted the 
mountain, and built its towers and fortress 
on the plain below, leaving the heights to 
the daughters of the cloister, who were thus 
much nearer heaven. Odile supervised care- 
fully the progress of the labors, for she was 
desirous to be settled in the abbey. It 
seemed as if the spirits of heaven engaged in 
the work, for it proceeded very quickly, and 
that what the Saint so ardently hoped for, 
God accomplished promptly, as it were, by 
a miracle. As soon as the new convent was 
habitable, Odile w^as installed as Abbess, 
leaving certain portions of the structure to 
be completed in succeeding years. Numer- 
ous fervent souls flocked around her, eager 
to imbibe on the heights of Hohenburg the 
nourishment of all the virtues, and to become 
flowers in that virginal garden which an 
Abbess of later days described, mystically 
under the name of Hortiis deliciarum: "The 
garden of delights." 



88 ST. ODILE. 

Adalric's daughter renewed in her monas- 
tery all the pious exercises vvnich she had 
seen in their vigor at Jaume, and the new 
abbey was surpassed by none of the other 
abbeys in piety, regularity and perfection ; 
thus it became like the noble German abbeys, 
a religious centre which fertilized Alsace and 
made its faith productive and everlasting. 

After Adalric and Bereswende had erected 
a splendid home for their family on the 
borders of the Rhine, they settled Hugo their 
eldest son as master of it, and he now be- 
came Duke of Alsace by the abdication of 
his father. Long and happily he reigned 
over his people, and following the counsel of 
Odile whom he frequently consulted, and 
aided by her prayers, he established an ideal 
kingdom in which religion and justice held 
full sway. Duke Hugo appreciated early 
the benefit of religion in the promotion of 
the welfare of his people, and was a loyal 
subject of Mother Church, who did so much 
by her legislation to raise nations from the 
slough of barbarism to the dignity of Christ- 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 89 

ian civilization. We must not forget that 
these primitive days were times of violence 
and commotion. The cruelty of the ancient 
Roman civilization was a germ that had fer- 
mented for ages in the soil of society, and 
its remains were apparent in later periods. 
The spirit of Christian charity lived in men's 
heads, but the olden cruelty and barbarian 
ferocity still ruled their hearts, and religion 
was the only means to extirpate this pesti- 
lence of all true progress. The Catholic 
Church had a terrible struggle with the ele- 
ments that resisted her efiforts to do away 
with open violence and private feuds. We 
know that in the very land where St. Odile 
passed her days, men always went around 
armed and even entered the churches with 
their arms ; such a custom could not help 
but produce evils that were wide-spread. 
The house of God was often converted into 
an arena of blood and vengeance. In 
France, in the very century of Odile's 
existence, the Council of Chalons-sur-Saone 
in its 17th canon pronounced excommunica- 



90 ST. ODILE. 

tion against all laymen who excited tumults 
or drew their swords to strike any one in the 
churches or in their precincts. Thus, we 
also see the prudence and foresight which 
dictated the 29th canon of the third Council 
of Orleans, celebrated in 538, which forbade 
any one to be present at Mass or Vespers 
armed. It took many centuries for the 
Church to prevail ; acts of violence were 
still continued, and though religion pro- 
claimed again and again the divinely given 
precept of fraternal charity, it always met 
with resistance in the harsh character and 
fierce passions of the descendants of the 
barbarians. The coercive arm of the Church 
labored to promote brotherly love by means 
of spiritual penalties. More than four cen- 
turies elapsed since the Council of Aries was 
celebrated in the middle of the Vth century, 
and as we see from the canons of the Council 
of Worms, held in 868, the same bitterness 
and feuds yet obtained. Rulers were mostly 
to blame for this un-Christian animosity, but 
the Church did not bend before them, any 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. 9 1 

more than she bent before Pagan emperors. 
She excommunicated kings as quickly as she 
did nobles and serfs, and she taught petty 
tyrants that they must be submissive to the 
laws of God and her salutary injunctions. 
In this way bending these lawless princes to 
the yoke of justice and morality, the Church 
improved the manners of society and gave a 
healthy tone to human progress. She thus 
planted the seed of true Christian civilization ; 
and when we remember that the petty lords 
of those harsh times were the origin of the 
principal families which now occupy the 
principal thrones of the world, we easily 
comprehend the invaluable service which 
religion rendered to the improvement and 
progress of the human race. Justice tri- 
umphed over brute force. Duke Hugh was 
one of the few rulers of his day who cooper- 
ated with the Church in ameliorating the 
customs and manners of his vassals. He 
supported the efforts of religion to exclude 
from society force as a motive-power of 
human action, and to inspire in its stead the 



92 ST. ODILE. 

peaceful spirit of benevolence. He was him- 
self the embodiment of charity, a true dis- 
ciple of Christ ; perti'ansiit benefaciendo : '' He 
went about doing good." His name is en- 
shrined in the history of his country and is 
often coupled with the name and memory of 
his sainted sister, who labored with him for 
temporal and eternal good. 

" Sorrow with sorrow sighing, hope with hope 
Exalting, heart embracing heart entire." 

As for Adalric and Bereswinde, they r-e- 
turned to Hohenburg to finish their days in 
peace, bidding good-bye to the proud world 
and resolved to labor with their daughter in 
works of mercy, which, with prayer and 
study, occupied the days of the Lady- Abbess 
and her pensive nuns. The love which the 
converted prince now bore towards Odile im- 
pelled him to practice her virtues and methods 
of life. How true it is, as Tennyson writes: 

" Love reflects the thing beloved." 

Rose, the foreign flower, transplanted to 
the "blue Alsatian mountains,'' took deep 



BECOMES ABBESS OF HOHENBURG. - 93 

root on them and devoted her Hfe to God in 
this peaceful monastic home where she 
learned the truth of the old saying: ''Be 
happy, but be so by piety." Berthilda also 
could not be contented until she lived near 
the child of her adoption ; and she who often, 
like a second mother, smiled on this slum- 
bering child, and with almost a mother's 
strong yearning besought God's love and 
mercy for Odile, now wished, when she found 
old age coming on apace, to close her life 
under the protecting kindness of her dear 
princess y diS she always called Odile. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE — A CLOSING 
EPISODE. 

The veil of obscurity has fallen on the 
monastic homes of ancient days, but History 
has retained sufficient data to give us an in- 
sight into the lives of sacrifice passed by 
holy virgins in the claustral state beneath 
the shadow of the rood. The religious 
enthusiasm that peopled the large abbeys 
and m.onasteries of the Middle Ages may 
have in some measure disappeared amidst 
the ever-engrossing activities and onward 
dispositions of our modern days, but a few 
glimmering rays escape now and then from 
the night of ages to disclose to our wonder- 
ing gaze the divine faith and charity that 
made the monastic homes of old golden 
with the benefits and blessings of a com- 
placent Providence. We have seen how 
completely entranced St. Odile was by this 
(94) 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. 95 

monastic life, and how she jeopardized 
fortune and all that could be dearest in this 
world to be free to live under its severe and 
solitary rule and thus weave out her eternal 
destiny. To her it was a spiritual garden, 
into which she entered voluntarily and in 
which she wished to breathe the fragrant 
odors of humility, chastity and entire sub- 
mission to God's will. Her soul was like the 
chastest lily there, for '' the flower of sweetest 
smell is shy and lowly." It were beneficial 
for us to uplift our worldly hearts, to look 
awhile on the much-misrepresented monastic 
life of early Christian times. We confine our 
consideration to the religious life spent by 
holy virgins in the mediaeval abbeys and 
monasteries that were to be found in every 
civilized country, but especially in France, 
Germany, Ireland and Britain. 

Often these nuns were the daughters of 
kings and noblemen, and the strength of soul 
which inspired them to leave all for Christ's 
sake was beautifully tempered by a rare sim- 
plicity of character and a winning gentleness 



96 ST. ODILE. 

of manner, unknown to those that dvN'elt in 
royal halls or mixed in the frivolities and 
pleasures of the world. The royal nun was 
indeed the royal sovereign, the veritable 
queen who patterned her existence and 
manners after that model of imperial grace — 
our Blessed Lady, the Queen of heaven. 
Nobody but a Catholic can understand how 
maidens, brought up in all the refinement 
and luxury of palatial homes, will abandon 
wealth, distinction and earthly bliss to cast 
themselves into what the eloquent Bossuet 
has called '' that voluntary prison into which 
they threw themselves for the love of God." 

Alsace, where St. Odile lived, has been 
always considered German in origin and 
settlement, and what was predicated by 
Tacitus in ancient days of the German 
women, viz. : that they were austerely chaste 
and held in high honor by their husbands, 
might be as justly applied to the fair women 
of remote Alsace. 

It is saying much in praise of the German 
women that in their rude country they were 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. 97 

not, as in so many Pagan lands, mere chattels, 
the sport and playthings of unfeeling lords ; 
they were, on the contrary, living, not dead 
beings, who acted mainly for themselves and 
w^ere protected against license by the severest 
penalties. They, therefore, played a promi- 
nent part in the delopmicnt of national life. 

When Christianity elevated them to the 
dignity of true womanhood, took them from 
the Egyptian bondage of paganism and de- 
pravity and made their very weakness their 
strength, they hastened in myriads to God's 
altars and laid upon them their hearts and 
virginity as their most precious offerings to 
the Saviour who had redeemed and brought 
them to the eternal light of day. They 
lavished their fondest afifections on religion, 
and voluntarily embraced restraint, sacrifice, 
penury and obscurity to becom.e the chosen 
brides of the crucified God.* When a goodly 
number of these saintly virgins were gathered 
in a religious house, one of them was elected 

* Anglo-Saxon legislation bestowed on a nun the title of 
" Godes bryde." 

7 



98 ST. ODILE. 

by the body as abbess, or appointed by the 
Bishop to that important office, and the sec- 
ular authorities accorded such a dignitary all 
of the privileges, liberties and attributes 
usually given to men of high rank. Fre- 
quently, these abbesses were of royal stock, 
and they accordingly kept a princely retinue 
and state. Their influence often surpassed the 
action of bishops and kings ; they attended 
all great religious and national assemblies, 
and had a voice in matters of the highest 
consideration and importance. In some 
countries, like England and Scotland, they 
were placed on the same level with kings, 
and their signatures appear, in the midst of 
those of the bishops and nobles, affixed to 
decrees of national import. Great, indeed, 
must have been the reverence for religion 
when these spiritual rulers were thus honored 
and appreciated. We refer to these authentic 
points in history to show to what power and 
high standing the headships of abbeys and 
monasteries had arisen in the old mediaeval 
days of faith. The Church seems to have 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. 99 

recognized the superior rank of the abbesses, 
if we judge from the lengthy, solemn cere- 
mony which was observed at their installa- 
tion. It certainly was most impressive, sec- 
ond alone to the rite by which kings were 
anointed. The life of these nuns of the olden 
times can hardly be appreciated, or, in fact, 
understood by the unspirilual, materialistic 
world of to-day. Hence it is that we read in 
•the writings of rationalistically inclined or 
openly malignant and prejudiced men the 
aversion which they have for the nunneries 
and monasteries of the Middle Ages, as well 
as for all the institutions of those ''Dark" 
centuries. It is a sad reflection on the relig- 
ious spirit of our days, albeit a gross display 
of impertinence, to hear intellectual speakers 
and wTiters expressing their indignation at 
the Church for permitting maidens to bury 
themselves in the living death of these mon- 
astic establishments, where they chose, to 
use the poet's words: 

" For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd, 
Chanting faiat hymns to the cold, fruitless moon." 



lOO ST. ODILE. 

This may sound perfectly agreeable to 
bigots and men of '* modern culture," ad- 
vanced scientists and carping agnostics, but 
it will hardly bear the test of truth, and is 
always found wanting in the balance of just- 
ice. There is scarcely a fair-minded reader 
of those abused and maltreated times who, 
when he views the immense services which 
the religietises of the Middle Ages gave to 
society and the needy classes of humanity, 
will not be struck with admiration for them, 
and will not wish to place them on the bead- 
roll of heroes that have uplifted our degraded 
human nature. Their lives were ever de- 
voted to the amelioration of mankind. Some 
lived in solitude, away from the " madding 
crowd's ignoble strife," having sought an 
asylum in God's immensity, where they 
prayed for the needs of society; others lived, 
as it were, amidst the whirl of life, and as- 
sisted the poor, tended the sick, cared for 
orphans, educated the rich and lowly alike, 
and nursed the wounded, as we to-day have 
witnessejd their successors, the sacrificing 
Sisters, in the wars of our period. 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. lOI 

They were not, as ignorant writers have 
declared, the victims of social, family or ec- 
clesiastical violence ; they were, for the main 
part, free agents in their choice of the claus- 
tral state, who abandoned, of their own will, 
home, parents, relatives, and the world with 
its blandishments and riches, and fled to 
the standard of the cross. God gave them 
strength of soul to select poverty and obedi- 
ence, preferably to wealth and freedom which 
endanger man's salvation ; and many of them, 
as we have said, the children of noble and 
even royal blood, sought in the monastic life 
spiritual comforts not obtainable in the world, 
and an eternal crown of glory in the future 
world. 

We look with amazement at the varied ac-. 
complishments of these consecrated virgins, 
and perceive them with pleasure as the soli- 
tary lights which gleam out of the prevailing 
darkness. United to extensive learning was 
that contentment of heart that surpasses all 
understanding. The convent was a foretaste 
of celestial bliss, 



I02 ST. ODILE. 

** Where peaceful rule, and duty free, 
Walk hand in hand in charity; 
Where oft devotion's tranced glow 
Can such a glimpse of heaven bestow, 
That the enraptured sisters see 
High vision and deep mystery." 

Such was the wisdom, charity, prudence, in 
fact the Christ-like character of one of these 
nuns of the mediaeval times that a writer, 
wrapt in admiration, thus testifies : '' She 
lived in the memories of men as a patron 
against calumny, a nurse of piety against 
sorrow, a light of the holy Church, an oil of 
mercy ; to the frigid a fire of charity, and to 
the dead in corporal and spiritual miseries, 
a refreshing and reviving joy." 

As nuns are predestined, just like priests, 
for the greatest glory of God, so, like the 
latter, they are '*a chosen generation" set 
apart **to declare His virtues who hath called 
us out of darkness into His marvelous hght." 
Their lives were lives of activity, and time did 
not hing heavily on their hands. With the 
mntto which ruled them, the motto of the 
great St. Benedict, whose rule was generally 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. IO3 

followed, '' Labor and pray," they made work 
for themselves where seemingly none was 
made for them. Some attended to physical 
labor, and hesitated not to use their hands 
even in agricultural pursuits ; others waited 
on the sick, the pilgrims and travelers who 
were drawn to the monasteries by the fame 
of their charity. Adjoining most of the 
mediaeval abbeys were hospices where the 
saintly nuns performed daily works of mercy 
for Christ, whose face they saw in the sufTer- 
ing poor that besought their charity. No 
self-sacrifice was like that of these generous 
nuns; corporal and spiritual deeds of mercy 
were, so to speak, their food, their refresh- 
ment and their ever-growing strength. It is 
no wonder that a traveler of our own days 
should have exclaimed in a burst of admira- 
tion, as he witnessed similar scenes of heroic 
love : '' I could almost say that my idea of 
heaven was a place filled with Sisters of 
Charity." Unlike Elias on Horeb, when he 
mourned w^ithout moving, and the Lord said 
to him : Quid hie agis, Elia ? '' What dost 



104 ST. ODILE. 

thou here, Elias?" they regarded time as 
God's most precious gift after grace, and 
were ever employed in their Father's busi- 
ness. Their Hves were both active and con- 
templative. 

Besides the manual labor which they per- 
formed, they also devoted many hours of 
the day to mental pursuits. Some of the 
mediaeval nuns were most learned and ac- 
complished in sacred and secular science. 
Contemporary historians and chroniclers bear 
ample testimony to their extraordinary intel- 
lectual abilities and acquirements. The eru- 
dite Mabillon ascribes to St. Boniface what he 
calls " the singular ornament of his order," 
viz. the learning of the nuns who followed 
the Benedictine rule. This was the rule 
which St. Odile adopted for her abbey at 
Hohenburg. The nuns of the German mon- 
asteries, like their sisters in Britain, were 
profound students of Sacred Scripture. Of 
them it was said > that ''excepting while at 
prayer, the divine pages never left their 
hands." In those mediaeval days, sacred 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC IJFE. 105 

learning was the acme of all knowledge; but 
while the nuns of Germany and Britain were 
deeply versed in it, they were also well 
grounded in the ancient classics, grammar, 
logic, history, and in fact in all the liberal 
arts. It was necessary that the scope of 
their intellectual attainments should be more 
than usual, in fact, quite extensive. Like 
their associates in religion, the monks, the 
nuns transcribed books, centuries before the 
art of printing was discovered, and some of 
them were composers of works that have 
come down to our days. We read of one 
convent in Belgium which became celebrated 
for its' work in reading and writing and in 
painting also ; another in Germany was noted 
not only for its embroidery and weaving, 
but also for its excellence in having written 
the four Gospels, the whole Psalter, and 
many other books of the divine Scriptures, 
which they ornamented with liquid gold, 
gems and pearls. These are but a few in- 
stances of many convents, which were de- 
voted to intellectual pursuits. The cloistered 



I06 ST. ODILE. 

nuns employed all their time, as an old 
chronicler bears witness, '' between psalmody 
and fasting, vigils and reading," in transcrib- 
ing books and important documents. They 
thus united learning with sanctity, labor with 
prayer. 

One of the great gifts of the Holy Ghost 
is the gift of science, and to this especial in- 
dwelling of the Third Person of the most 
Blessed Trinity we must ascribe that mystical 
knowledge so largely possessed by the nuns 
of the Middle Ages, which amazes us tc- 
day, spite of our boasted attainments. In no 
other way can we account for the profound 
intimacy which they evidenced in the grasp 
of subjects worthy the genius of the brightest 
church-fathers. We know that faith is a 
special additional light which is infused by 
God into man's reason, and which is given 
to every mind that has been regenerated by 
water and the Holy Spirit; but the gift of 
science is something super-added to both 
reason and faith by the illuminative action of 
the Holy Ghost and awarded to those who 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. lO/ 

have preserved in their souls the priceless 
grace of God. In the obscurity of the 
cloister, far from the trials of the v^^orld and 
the pressing temptations of this lower life, 
these saintly maidens kept themselves unde- 
filed and free from sin. It was their con- 
tinual endeavor to abide in God that He 
might abide in them. Thus they united the 
perfection of reason with the sanctification of 
the illuminating Spirit, and were conditioned 
therefore to explore and understand more 
thoroughly than ordinary mortals the mys- 
teries of the Kingdom of God. They found 
in the broad landscape of God's truth beauti- 
ful scenes on wdiich to feed their intellect, 
and in God's law a sweet persuasion that 
captivated both mind and heart. With the 
Psalmist they might have said : Domimis 
illiimi7iatio mea\ ''The Lord is my light/' 
The eminent purity of soul which these 
holy vigins cultivated, as accordant with their 
vow, gave them an adaptability to see and 
know truth, for it is absolutely necessary that 
the understanding should be free from all 



I08 ST. ODILE. 

bias towards uncleanness to grasp and ap- 
preciate the knowledge which cometh from 
God. Anything that is morally wrong 
makes the eye of the soul squint, and it can- 
not therefore perceive the directness of God's 
truth nor the grandeur of His holy law. 
This seems to be St. Paul's sentiment: ''All 
things are clean to the clean, but to them 
that are defiled, and to unbelievers, nothing 
is clean ; but both their mind and conscience 
are defiled." * 

Gifted with this heaven-born science, these 
devoted brides of Christ discoursed and wrote 
on some of the most elevated subjects of 
theology ; so profound were their views on 
the mystical division of this Queen of all the 
sciences, and so sensible and correct their 
exposition of the doctrinal and moral sides 
of the same science, that, in our edification 
and wonder, we recall to mind, when con- 
trasting the arrant nonsense written by some 
distinguished ejcponents of ''modern relig- 
ion'' and " modern culture " with the pure, 

* (Titus i. 13.) 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. IO9 

limpid stream of truth which flowed from the 
divinely illuminated intellects of these erudite 
virgins, the words of our Blessed Saviour : 
'' I confess to Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven 
and earth, because Thou hast hidden these 
things from the wise and prudent, and hast' 
revealed them to little ones. Yea, Father: 
for so it hath seemed good in Thy sight.* 

To corroborate the powerful efTect which 
the gift of science breathes into the purified 
and grace-laden intellect of man, we need 
only look at the marvellous works of the 
Doctors, — Augustine, Gregory, Jerome, Am- 
brose, Hilary, Bernard, Alphonsus and 
Thomas — who all wrote under the inspira- 
tion of this sacred gift of the Holy Spirit and 
composed their wonderful treatises at the 
foot of the crucifix. Noii aliam i^mercedem) 
nisi 7>, Domine. 

We must remember, if at times we recog- 
nize some trace of discontent or regret in the 
satisfaction of the monastic obligations, that 
all this was attributable to the conditions of 

* (St. Luke X. 21.) 



110 ST. odtle:. 

national life in their reflection on the religious 
life. The spiritual life did not attain to^ its 
development till after years of experience. 
The spirit of the cloister was always present, 
but in the early times in a modified form, 
and its merit was not forthcoming until the 
human mind and will wxre trained to under- 
stand and accept its sacrifices and burdens. 
Christian education and discipline were 
needed before the monastic life would arrive 
at that desirable state which foretokened 
great progress in the way of perfection. In 
monastic Iffe, as in civil life, there must be 
an evolution, a gradual amelioration of first 
principles ; and we cannot help admiring the 
heroicity of soul and strength of purpose 
which conducted the virgins of St. Odile's 
days from the crudely civilized world to the 
foot of God's altar. Who were these saintly 
maidens? They had descended from a race 
still fresh in their acceptance of Christianity, 
and were yet possessed of many attributes 
and qualfties which belonged to vanquished 
paganism. It is scarcely reasonable to sup- 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. Ill 

pose even that pagans, brought to the pro- 
fession of Christianity, could all at once ac- 
quire that pacific disposition and meekness of 
heart, obtainable only by centuries of Christian 
practice. We know of one national excep- 
tion, and that is the Irish people who bowed 
instantly at St. Patrick's preaching to the 
faith of the triune God, symbolized in their 
native shamrock, and accepted not only the 
precepts, but also the counsels of God's holy 
law. The character of these German converts 
to Christianity was turbulent, and they were 
still, even after the grace of regeneration, de- 
sirous to maintain their native strength and 
too often unrestrained freedom. In the un- 
disciplined state of the cloister in those early 
Christian times» the vis vivida of national 
life had its influence on the monastic life, and 
if betimes we hear of some disappointment 
or distress of soul, yet we are astonished that 
the nuns of those early days accepted so 
nobly their lives of sacrifice and persevered 
so earnestly in their chosen profession. But 
the test of life is death. And the death of 



112 . ST. ODILE. 

the mediaeval nun was ** precious in the sight 
of the Lord." Hers was a peaceful end, and 
to her, when the Lord's finger touched her, 
we might apply Venerable Bede's short, but 
expressive sentence on St. Hilda's death: 
Lceta mortem vidit: '' She saw death with 
joy." Many of the nuns foretold the time of 
their death, and the old chroniclers declare 
that they departed hence, while heavenly 
music was heard, to enjoy the glories of Par- 
adise. Wonderful indeed was their love ! 
marvelous their chasteness of soul ! The 
world knows nought -of their happiness. 
Men essay in vain to comprehend it. It is a 
mystery. Young, innocent hearts espouse 
themselves to God, to an invisible crucified 
Lord, and their faith, obediencCi poverty and 
purity'* gild their passage to eternal rest," 
where they cast their crowns before the 
throne of God. Such is the hope, the sole 
ambition of the sanctified nun of the Middle 
Ages, and truly she may say with St. Paul, 
when life's struggle is over: **Now we see 
through a glass darkly; in a moment we 
shall see face to face." 




One beautiful summer-day, a large sized man clad in the 

monastic habit . . . climbed slowly and heavily 

the winding mountain-path. 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. II 3 

One beautiful summer day, a large sized 
man clad in the monastic habit, of lofty, 
m.ajestic brow and with eyes gravely down- 
cast, as if to A^eil from indiscreet gaze the 
thoughts that coursed through his mind, 
climbed slowly and heavily the winding 
mountain-path. His hands were lost in the 
large folds of his woolen garment, and he 
appeared to be plunged in deep meditation. 
One would judge from his recollected manner 
that he was communing with God. From 
timie to time, however, he would emerge 
from the reflections which absorbed his at- 
tention so completely, and cast a glance at 
the natural scenery so vvondrously rich 
about him. A pleasant smile then broke on 
his lips, and he murmured in a low, but 
musical voice : " How good it is to be 
here!" 

When he arrived at the mountain-top, at a 
spot w^hich appeared to be delightfully 
marked out for a resting-place, at the cross- 
ing of several narrow roads, which were 
bordered by soft, inviting under-brush and 



114 ST. ODILE. 

from which the sight was lost in the distance 
and the traveler was likely to go astray, he 
paused and said: ''Yes, it is there." As 
he leaned on his palmer's staff in pensive 
mood, one would say that he was peering 
down the vista of the past. 

''Yes," he soliloquized, "it was there that 
I first saw Odile; at that time she seemed to 
me so good and lovely, as we rode together 
in the chase wherein I was the most dashing 
huntsman of all. She possessed the sim- 
plicity of a child and the candor of a saint, 
and truly her presence ravished my heart. 
But how far nobler and grander does she 
appear to me to-day, behind those convent- 
walls which shelter her from the world and 
those bolted doors which keep faithfully for 
God the secrets witnessed by Him alone. 
Be Thou ever blessed and praised, O merci- 
ful God, for having prepared this solitary 
nest for the dove that sought repose only in 
Thee ; be Thou ever blessed for having, by 
the same stroke of grace, broken the bonds 
which attached me so intimately to this 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. IIS 

world, and for having shown me the vanity 
of all that passes away." 

After this prayer, he accomplished with 
quick step the short distance which sepa- 
rated him from the abbey, and without stop- 
ping, despite the fatigue which he felt, he 
entered at once the convent-church. The 
nuns in large numbers filled the choir-stalls 
with angelic modesty and hymned forth 
God's praises. 

Duke Frederic (for it was he) perceived 
Odile seated in the abbatical place of honor. 
This visit was far different from the one 
which he made when he came to Hohen- 
burg to find his fiancee, Hohenburg — the 
impregnable castle — endured now only the 
peaceable assaults of the wretched and needy. 
Everything was changed in the place, des- 
tined henceforth to prayer and silence, and 
on this occasion Frederic came to see a 
Saint. 

When the divine office was finished, he 
was introduced at his own request to the 
abbess. These two souls recognized each 



Il6 ST. ODILE. 

other quickly, for ties, purer than those with 
which others had endeavored to burden 
them, now united them forever. Frederic 
and Odile had prayed for each other many 
years, and the sacrifice of the Alsatian 
Prince's daughter had begotten that of the 
German Duke. Thus the flame of divine 
love sprang up from the heart which it had 
made a victim and arose aloft to heaven, 
bearing with it to God's throne the spoils of 
its earthly conquest. 

What did the monk and abbess have to 
say to each other in the brief interview that 
for a moment had brought them together? 
What the elect of heaven say in the never- 
ending ages — the canticle of their deliver- 
ance and peace. 

'' Our soul hath been delivered as a spar- 
row out of the snare of the fowlers. The 
snare is broken, and we are delivered." * 

And now Frederic, unwilling to take any- 
thing for refreshment save a little wine to re- 
cuperate his strength, left Hohenburg, never 
*(Ps. CXXIII, 7.) 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. 11/ 

to see it again, bearing with him to the heart 
of Germany the sweet memory of that great 
Princess who covered Alsace with her deeds 
of charity and protected it by her prayers. 

CONCLUSION. 

The story which we have told you, dear 
readers, is no fairy-tale. It is a legend, that 
is to say a narrative in which popular imag- 
ination has found its place, but the basis of 
which preserves historical reality. 

It is a historical fact that Adalric, Duke of 
Alsace in the Vllth century, had by his wife 
Bereswinde a daughter Odile, who was born 
blind and incurred on that account her 
father's anger, and that this predestined child 
recovered miraculously her sight at her 
baptism, which was administered to her 
when she was twelve years of age, in the 
Monastery of Jaume of which her aunt was 
the abbess. 

It is also historical that Hugh, the young 
exile's brother, caused her to return secretly 
to her father's castle, and that when the first 



Il8 ST. ODILE. 

Stage of discontent passed away, Adalric be- 
stowed on her his paternal affection. 

When the German Duke sued for the hand 
of the saintly Princess, Odile, who had vowed 
herself to God, fled from her home disguised 
as a beggar, crossed the Rhine and concealed 
her identity in the suburbs of Freiburg. 
There she learned at the end of a certain time 
that her father (who had searched for her 
in vain) had caused to be published every- 
where that she might return without fear to 
Hohenburg and feel secure in enjoying the 
liberty of embracing whatever kind of Hfe 
suited her. Relying on this promise she 
returned to the castle, and Adalric, wishing 
to accomplish fully that for which he had 
given his word, not only allowed his daughter 
found a religious community, but also be- 
stowed on her his own dwelling for that pur- 
pose. 

Odile soon found herself at the head of 
three hundred nuns, and as their number be- 
gan to increase, she was compelled to build 
a second convent at Nieder-Munster. Adal- 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LIFE. II 9 

ric and Beresvvinde decided to pass their last 
years with the pious abbess and bequeathed 
to her at their death a portion of their wealth, 
to be devoted to whatever good works she 
, had in view. At Nieder-Munster, Odile built 
a hospital and loved to care herself for the 
aged and the sick. She rendered at last her 
beautiful soul to God December 13th, 720, 
surrounded by her daughters, who, while de- 
ploring the most devoted of mothers, cele- 
brated with the angels the triumphant en- 
trance of the Saint into heaven. 

The abbey of Hohenburg was in the course 
of time enriched with magnificent gifts ; those 
who were able came to it with pleasure and 
left some of their fortune in the hands of 
these daughters of solitude and charity, who 
used the revenue of their convent in assisting 
the poor and suffering in the vicinity. The 
community flourished to such a degree that 
later on its history the Emperor Frederic 
Barbarossa conferred on its abbess the title 
of Princess of the Holy Roman Empire. 
Down to the Xllth century this monastery 



120 ST. ODILE. 

continued to follow the rule of its Foundress ; 
it adopted afterwards the rule of St. Benedict. 
Hohenburg has changed its name for the 
more illustrious one of Mt. St. Odile. For 
centuries, tourists and pilgrims climb this 
holy mountain in Alsace and refresh their 
souls for some moments on its superb heights. 
If, as Father Lacordaire has said, there are 
places blessed by a special predestination, 
may we not attribute that favor to this en- 
chanted spot of which we have spoken? 
From there, the delighted eye discovers 
twenty cities and more than three hundred 
villages scattered along the plain of the 
Rhine and living in the abundance of fruitful 
and splendid nature. On the mountain, the 
ruins of Roman walls summon up the memory 
of ancient paganism ; but scarcely have we 
perceived these reliques of a remote past, 
when the eye is quickly turned from them by 
the lordly aspect of the abbey, — the me- 
morial of Christ's triumph through Odile. A 
pure, crystal stream invites the passer-by tp 
bathe his eyes in its waters, in remembrance 



THE ANCIENT MONASTIC LINE. 121 

of the daughter of Adalric, who recovered 
her sight by a stroke of grace. In the mon- 
astery, the religieuses still extend hospitality 
to visitors ; it is necessary that on this moun- 
tain top all things should have the stamp of 
pious tradition. 

From the summit of Hohenburg, the Virgin 
of Alsace watched always over her native 
land ; she lived there as an angel spreading 
her wings over it to preserve its faith. The 
pilgrim who kneels in the Saint's church 
knows that he always brings away from it a 
provision of happiness and peace. The 
Good P7'incesSy just as in former days, has 
something to vouchsafe the poor people al- 
ways, and does so without reckoning the 
cost. 



